Master Xander
by AlbertG
Summary: The fight between Buffy and her friends against Glory was horrific. Buffy won and the portal was closed. But the damage was done. There were fractures everywhere. Years later Alexander Harris has to clean up one such mess before true evil enters this virgin world.
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Master Xander**  
Category: TV Shows » Buffy: The Vampire Slayer

THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY MASTER XANDER' IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN IN ANY FORM. THIS DEDICATION MUST ACCOMPANY ANY DISTRUBUTION OF THIS STORY.

-COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE-

"_Buffy The Vampire Slayer_", it's characters, certain mystical devices and/or references to such, from the television show, are registered trademarks of, Mutant Enemy Productions and created by Joss Whendon. Characters, names, and all related indicia are trademarks of WB Network Entertainment.

"_Harry Potter_ was created and is the creation of by J.K. Rowling. In other words, she owns the rights to everything! I will say that the original characters are of my creations. I am solely responsible for them as such.

This is my first Harry Potter story and I will of course make mistakes in this AU. Not every character will be identical to the book or movies. In addition, I will be focusing on some of the secondary characters more than the main ones so you will see them in the forefront.

There is another mix here as well which I will not reveal but you'll figure it out. _**I don't own this either, **_but I am having a little fun and I hope you will as well.

Note: These chapters will be relatively shorter than my usual number of words.

Please enjoy.

_**'Master Xander' C**_

_**Chapter One**_

_**Diagon Alley**_

_**England-1992**_

Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley practically floated towards the famous and mysterious wand shop _Ollivandes: Makers of fine wands_ since 382 B.C. She couldn't believe it! She was finally going to Hogwarts and she was getting her wand today! She already had her school robes and some of her books required for school. Other supplies she'd get later but now it was time to get her wand! Looking at her smirking father, she tried her best to keep the smile off her face and failed miserably. Hey, this was a landmark event. She was about to officially become a young woman now!

Her brothers George and Fred were unabashedly smirking at her, a sure sign that they were in on the a of some sort that had to be at her expense. Being the baby sister, she sometimes received the twins unwanted attention and now, she was old enough to understand when she a victim of their pranks. They didn't prank her often; that was reserved for her older brother Ronald. Usually she was at the fringes of their pranking binges. Poor Ron though, received the brunt of their attention which usually involved some sort of food prank. The latest, which mother finally punished them for, had poor Ron's food changing colors to bright green and no matter what type of food was on the plate, it all tasted exactly the same.

Ron _hated _broccoli.

George and Fred thought it was hilarious and her father, instead of punishing them, laughed along with them and that was when her mother stepped in, hexing them both sending them to their rooms. Then she yelled at her husband for an hour. That did little to dissuade the twins from coming up with something else to torment their little brother. It was no wonder that Ron ate the way he did. It was his response for his brothers playing with his food. He ate like a slob because he had to get it down as fast as possible before something happened to it. she thought they were terrible to him and they thought it was funny. Not that she approved, of course.

But she had to admit, some of those pranks _were_ really funny.

However, Ginny didn't like being the subject of pranks and today of all days was too important to her for her brothers to mess things up. Of all days, why father had to bring them with her, she'd never know. But she did have her suspicions.

"What's taking so long?" she whined. Since this morning, they'd been everywhere but the wand shop. Ginny was convinced that her father was holding off coming here on purpose as some sort of prank. Her brothers had to get it from somewhere.

Arthur Weasley was beaming as much as his daughter was. His baby girl was growing up and going off to school. It was a wonderful time but one he also dreaded. The children were growing up and all too soon they'd be off having their own adventures, getting married and having their own families. But first, he wanted to have fond memories of what it was like to be young and with family. Fred and George came up with the idea of prolonging the wait for Ginny to get her wand and he agreed. But they were being pranked, too. The twins hated shopping, so Arthur made them accompany him to every store they hated to step foot into. Shopping for girl's robes had to rank highest among their most hated thin to do. Three hours seemed long enough, he imagined. He would tell Molly about the looks on their collective faces. She'd be so amused even if she didn't show it.

They were within sight of the store now and his daughter was all but dragging him into the shop. Looking around she saw beautifully crafted boxes and cases filled with every type of wand on display as one could imagine. Those wands were for display only and weren't real ones, but they simply helped to stir her imagination. The smells of different woods, exotic oils, and other things permeated the shop, making everything seem that much more real. It was amazing and she couldn't wait. Her father couldn't help but smile as he saw the joy ho his baby daughter's face.

Moments later, her joy turned to disappointment. "It's crowded!" she wailed. "It'll be nighttime before I can get my wand. The store will close, and I'll have to wait until tomorrow! Father, it's all your fault for putting this off!"

Grabbing his daughter, he tried placating her. "There, there, it's only one customer in front of us and I'm sure he'll be done soon."

'Don't worry," Fred told her.

"It shouldn't take more than two maybe three hours," said George.

"…Before you can get your wand," responded Fred.

This mindreading gift the twins shared was one thing that Ginny loved and hated about the twins. They were so close that they knew each other's thoughts to the point of finishing each other's sentences. Furthermore, they did it on purpose to confuse everyone.

"You'll have at least twenty minutes," continued George," Before the store closes."

"That's plenty of time…" spoke Fred.

"Oh, yes. Plenty of time," finished George without missing a beat.

Ginny responded the only way she could. She started wailing. She had waited for so long for this day taking extra care to wear her best clothes because she wanted to look beautiful for this day and now it was ruined!

"Fred, George, be nice to your sister or we'll skip the joke shop today!" Arthur warned.

Both brothers immediately lowered their heads after a moment's shock. No way could they miss going to the joke shop. That was the reason why they came along in the first place.

"Yes, sir," both said in unison.

Ginny still felt miserable.

This was turning out to be a most interesting day for the owner of the wand shop. Garrick Ollivander's shop was busy today. Almost a dozen first years had come for their wands and he smiled fondly as he dutifully repaired his shop over two dozen times. All of the children were given fine wands, the best in the world if he did say so himself. That was the tradition, handed from father to son until the ownership passed to him. He loved his job because it was challenging creating works of art. Each wand was different and had to be matched to his or her owner. The art of wand-making was not only in making the physical wand but matching it to the person. Becoming one with a wand wasn't as easy as he made it seem. There was an art to it and he and his family were artists. Few and far in-between were the complaints he'd received over the years. He was proud of his accomplishments.

However, what the man before him asked for was as unusual as his appearance. It caused the elder wandmaker to take a moment to examine the man. He was in his early forties with brown hair speckled with patches of gray. all about six feet in height, about one eighty or so. He was tanned and had piercing brown eyes that complimented his almost lazy, relaxed smile. He looked healthy and beneath is strange clothing he hinted of well-used muscles. He had the look of a foreigner, possibly a new world colonial.

"Mister Harris, you're a yank, an American?" he asked as his curiosity got the better of hm.

"Yep, one hundred percent, born and raised."

"Most interesting," Ollivander said, as his eyes gleamed. "The wandmakers in the Colonies are very good. Are you perhaps wanting a secondary wand for use? If that's true, the you've come to the right place."

Behind him, Arthur perked up. The customer in front of him was an American. How exciting! Maybe he knew about muggle devices and what their purposes were. He was always interested in muggle devices and how they worked. It was a hobby of his, one that his wife somewhat disapproved of. She complained that he was always leaving dangerous 'muggle' junk around. He of course, disagreed and she mostly left him alone. But this American might know what some of those things he had collected over the years were. So he couldn't help but try to listen in on the conversation while holding on to his anxious daughter.

"Thank you, I believe I have. This is the first time I'm buying a wand of my own."

That surprised Garrick. "You've never had a wand of your own? I believed that the wand specialists at Livermony would have supplied you with a suitable wand for your own personal use."

The customer nodded at the shop owner and his obvious prompt. "I didn't attend Livermony. I hear it is a good school. Me, I went to a private college in Southern California. It was very exclusive, and I received my training and degrees there. The wand I used was, you might say, a family heirloom and I had to return it. I just moved here recently. I have a small magic shop a couple of blocks from here. It's not opened yet," he explained.

"Most interesting," Garrick said filing that away for future use. "Well, back to business. Which hand do you prefer?" has asked as he prepared to make measurements to ensure a proper wand fit. Behind him Ginny looked on with intense interest and excitement. Soon, she'd be the one being measured for a wand.

"I prefer my right hand, sir. You can take the measurements, but I'm not here to buy a wand. I want you to make me one."

The shop owner looked up in surprise. "You want a custom-made wand? I must inform you that all of my wands are custom-made."

"I know. That's why I'm here," the man answered. "I have the design here," he said as he presented blueprints to the very interested shop keeper. "This is a thirteen and a half inch, red oak and ash. And this," he pulled out a small wooden box and placed it on the counter, "is the core I want placed inside the wand."

The wand maker looked intently as the man opened the box. Inside, there was a small tightly braided set of hairs. Intrigued, he pulled out his own wand and waved it over the braid.

"What is this?" he asked. "I've never seen anything like this. It's human and something else." He waved his wand over it once more. "There is power here unlike anything I've seen before."

The American waved his hand and the braid separated into four strands, each a different color. Behind him, Arthur raised his eyebrows at the demonstration of wandless magic. "It's a braid consisting of four hairs, freely given. The blond hair is from one of the longest living warriors of her kind. The brunette strand is from her sister warrior, heir to the line. The next strand is red and white comes from their bond sister and my best friend when I was young. These are sister in all but blood. They strive together in friendship, adversity, though joy and sorrow. They are warriors against the darkness, and they are my friends. The last strand is from another bond mate, separate from me but never parted. She is a primal. Her strand was freely given to me. All; are Alphas, all are warriors and all of them are my friends." The American waved his hand over the strands and the braid reformed itself.

"It's a primal," Ollivander whispered. "I've heard of them but never in my lifetime have I ever seen an example of one. I've had many cores to use in my wands, even phoenix feathers and vampire hair. I've created a wand made from the hair of a werewolf and scales of a dragon as cores, but never a mystical primal. I didn't believe they existed."

"They don't, not on this world."

The man said it in a way that made Ollivander look at him in a new light. 6"Yes, yes. I see," he muttered. "Not of this world."

"Can you do it?" the man asked.

"I think I can rise to the challenge," the older man answered. "It will take twenty-four days."

"Excellent," the man said as he clapped his hands. "Here is a down payment of thirty galleons, the rest upon delivery."

"Excellent, is there anything else?"

"I think that's it," he answered as the shopkeeper completed his measurements. "Oh, here is my card. My shop will be opened in a few days. It's called Xander's Magic Shop and Curiosities. I'll also serve American style foods."

"I look forward to visiting your store one day."

Thank you again. Now, I have to get out of the way before that young girl bursts open at the seams."

There was a gleam in his eye as he glanced at the young lady about to shove the American out of the way. "Quite so," agreed the shop keeper.

A grinning Alexander Harris moved out of the way before he could be shoved by the young, petite red-haired girl.

"Thank you, sir," she said to him, as she stepped up to speak to the shopkeeper. Turning to the American she said brightly, "I am getting my wand today!" and she promptly forgot he existed as Ollivander started to measure her.

"Good for


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Ginny had forgotten all about the stranger that had been in front of her, interfering with the most important day of her life, but Arthur and the twins hadn't. To Arthur, he was a fascinating individual. The man was dressed strangely, wearing a shirt that he believed that Dumbledore might have liked. It was full of color and light and somehow reminded him of some distant tropical island. And he was wearing strange slacks, jeans he believed they were called. Those pants had pegged him as an American from the start. People from the Colonies coming to Diagon Alley was a rare event indeed, but what captured his attention was his request to have a wand made, not merely selecting one from what was considered the best wand maker in the world.

The man turned to Arthur and with a lazy smile, he glanced at the youngster who was all but bouncing off of the walls while the shopkeeper tried to complete his measurement.

"She must be a handful," he said as the young one acted like she was being tickled each time Ollivander came near her to measure her wand arm.

"Oh, yes, she is," Arthur responded gaily. "She's my baby girl and today _is_ wand fitting day and we all know how important that is for young ones." The father smiled with obvious pride. "Mister…" he prompted.

"Alexander Harris," the mand replied. "At your service."

"Hello sir, I am Arthur Weasley," he cheerfully said. "And these are my boys Fred and George and of course by baby daughter, Ginevre."

"Merlin! You _are_ an American," George said.

"We've never seen one before," Fred said.

"…Until now," finished George.

Alexander shook his head, amused by the twins. "Born and raised in Southern California."

"There's a wizarding community in California?" asked a curious Arthur.

"There are a lot of things in Southern Cali, but I grew up in a non-wizarding community."

Arthur perked up. "You grew up in muggle territory?" he asked excitedly.

Behind them, part of the store caught fire which was quickly put out by the who was muttering that that wasn't the correct wand.

"Yes, I grew up in a, I can't say non-magical community, but were both magical and non-magical people lived together."

"But the Statute of Secrecy! Muggles aren't supposed to know about magic," said a surprised George.

"It really didn't come up," muttered Alexander, "not in a way that you mean. Too much crap was going on in good old Sunnydale."

"Yes, I've heard of American violence in their towns and villages,"

Arthur solemnly nodded to which Alexander just laughed. "You have no idea."

"And they didn't try to burn you at the stake like they did those people at plym stone?" asked a somewhat surprised Fred. "I thought muggles loved to burn witches and wizards all the time."

Again, Mister Harris laughed. "Those days are long, long gone, err, for the most part," once more remembering good old Sunnydale. "But I think you are referring to Plymouth Rock, and that wasn't where the burnings occurred. That happened somewhere else and those who were burned weren't witches or wizards although many were accused of it by unscrupulous people interested in power, not to mention playing off on other's fear for personal gain, and let's not forget general insanity."

"Sorry," George responded being somewhat confused and embarrassed. "We don't know that much about American colonial history."

"I can tell," Harris answered but not unkindly.

Arthur jumped in. He didn't want the twins to unintentionally insult Mr. Harris. "I've taught them as much as I knew which I admit isn't very much. But I am ecstatic to know that magical and muggles can live together in peace. I've always believed in the equality of both, although I confess that I'm in the minority among my peers." He smiled at his understated comment. The Ministry didn't even think of muggles other than by some abstract concept. In truth, many in the Ministry and in the community wished they could just go away and never come back. But he wasn't one of them which wasn't to say that he wasn't somewhat afraid of them. "I do however have a question, if you would be so kind to answer." Now, the red-haired father looked hesitant. "Do you know much about muggle technology? I mean, did you ever use things like the more modern-looking automobiles they seem so fond of, or the tele with those amazing black and white moving pictures?"

"Black and white moving pictures?" mouthed Alexander. He was about to give a sarcastic retort when he stopped. The man looked so excited and sincerely innocent that Harris couldn't get the cutting remark out of his mouth. "Er, yes. I use it all of the time, all of my life." Behind him a small counter was blown to bits. Seconds later it was repaired by the nonchalant shopkeeper who was muttering about the wrong wand again. "Why do you ask?"

Arthur puffed up with obvious pride. "I have an automobile myself," he announced proudly. With his wand, he produced an image of a vintage car that looked like it was built in the late forties' early fifties. "The family and me have wonderful Sunday drives. Had it for about six years now."

"A magically enhanced car," assumed Harris. It looked a lot older than he was.

"Naturally. It's registered and everything. All legal. Strict Ministry rules and all that rot," he laughed. "Do you, perhaps own a car. I hear that most muggles have one. which I expect you have, coming from a muggle village as such?"

Yes, Mr. Weasley, I have a one at my home just outside of London. It's a modified _Lexus 520T_ built to European specifications. It was built by non-magicals."

The elder Wesley started beaming. "I would love to see it one day," he said wispily. "And do you use the tele sometimes to talk to your muggle friends?"

To his surprise Alexander's demeaner changed just enough so that he'd noticed. "Mister Weasley, I have to correct you on something. You should say non-magical, or no-mags when you speak about non-magical people. The word 'muggle' may not seem an insult to you, but it is a derogatory that many of my friends would not react well to." Harris' tone was polite, but it carried a sternness that Arthur didn't fail to catch.

"I'm sorry," he said, and Harris saw that he really meant it. it was just that he hadn't thought of it that way. "We always use the term. I didn't think it to be insulting to no-mags. If it is, then I am dreadfully sorry."

"You don't speak to non-magical people, so you would not know it is a form of insult. The very word sounds derogatory. But you should tell your friends. If you think about it, it makes you sound like a different species and I don't know if that's a good thing. It separates us more."

Arthur hadn't thought about it in those terms before. now, however as he did, he could see the sense of it. "I will tell them, but I don't believe that they'll listen," he muttered. "But I will."

"Do you know lots of no-mags, Mister Harris?" asked Fred while all of the duck from flying pieces shrapnel from the latest explosion from his wand -waving sister.

Standing up, the American smiled. Gnny was just like Dawn's baby girl. Thinking about that, something else came to him. He used to hate being called 'Mister Harris'. Now that he was older, it didn't bother him at all. He wasn't his father. Good grief, he was getting old! But to answer the boy's question… "Quite a few, Fred. Most of my friends don't have any magical abilities as you understand said abilities."

George perked up as it hit him. "You can tell us apart!"

"Yep, it's obvious," Alexander responded while quirking an eyebrow.

"How?" asked George/

"It's obvious, once you know how," Alex smirked which the twins to mean that he wasn't about to tell them. Both of them glanced at each other in excitement.

"Our mother has trouble telling us apart. That means this…"

"…Is a challenge!" both twins said.

"We shouldn't disturb Mr. Harris anymore," Arthur said. He was still feeling a little uncomfortable about the 'muggle' comment. He didn't know the man and he didn't want to insult him any more than he thought he'd already had.

Alexander noticed his change. "That's okay boys, I will enjoy the challenge. You've thrown the gauntlet. I can only pick it up."

Both the boys looked at each other. "Challenge accepted."

"Now, boys…" said a worried Arthur Wesley.

Alexander struggled not to roll his eyes. Arthur hadn't done anything wrong and now he exhibited all the signs that a puppy being yelled at would. "Arthur, I want to show you something," Alexander said as he pulled out a small rectangular box. "This is my cell phone, or tele as you would call it." He handed to small thin boxlike piece of no-mag technology to Arthur who gingerly grabbed it from Harris' hand. "It's a Samsung J12 PERX. It's one of the latest phones in communications technology. But it's not the most expensive, couldn't afford that," he muttered. "That's the S series, little too expensive for my taste."

Some of the explanation went over Arthur's head but he got the gist of it. The patriarch handled the small box carefully, flipping it over a few times trying to understand exactly what he was looking at.

"This is how it works. If you turn it over so that the black glasses facing you and you move your hand over to the edge you will feel a series of three buttons. Press the top button."

Arthur's curiosity getting the better of him as it so often did, pressed the small thin button. Immediately, the glass lit up into a crystal-clear image of Alexander's name and his title. Alexander, with his finger, then moved in it a series of unusual patterns on with his finger across the screen. The image then changed into a series of around, multicolored symbols with small identifiers underneath suspended on a blue background.

"What is this?" gasped the man. The images were so clear despite his small size, that he could barely believe it. "This can't be a phone! It must be an American magical device! It's too small and has no wire connections and has pictures on it!"

"I will admit that this is a more advanced version of anything that you can find at the regular no-mag stores now." He didn't bother to mention that this type of phone wouldn't be available for about thirty years as he didn't feel like explaining that little bit of information. "But this will rapidly become a common device used by every normal in the world. It will become the most used wireless device across the world. A lot of people these days have or will have a variation of it with more people being added every day. If you went to a store, you would find bigger, blockier versions and they won't have all the features this one has; however, they're getting there. Now Arthur, if you flip it around, you'll notice that no matter what position you put it in, the icons will flip to the top."

Arthur did so and he was stunned by the ability of the icons the flip to whatever position that was best facing up. Fred and George crowded around the father looking over shoulders at this amazing sight. "And it's not magic? It has t be. This is impossible without magic!"

"No-mags have developed lots of things without magic. They call it advanced mechanics."

"Again, amazing! And you say this the Tele-phone?

"It's much more than a phone. It has numerous functions and it would be better described as an all-in-one communications and entertainment device." Alex pointed to the screen. "Each of those little round icons can do something different. For example, I can find out about the weather. I have photographs of all of my friends and places that I've been. It has a built-in camera that can take still picture or vides."

"What is video?" asked George.

"Moving pictures–in color," explained Alexander. And here he touched the icon name 'photos' and dozens of photographs appeared on the screen. Xander quickly showed Arthur how to slide his finger over the screen to change images. To the stunned the light of all three Wesleys, Alex then instructed him how to expand and contract the images on the screen. All three were surprised by the clarity and the beauty of the overall photographs. A short video of three women, a blonde, a brunette and one red-head appeared onscreen at a restaurant seating and laughing together. The appeared in their early thirties and were gulping food down like there was no tomorrow. Another woman appeared with two little children. All of them looked like the blonde. The family resemblance was impossible to miss.

"This has to be magic," exclaimed Fred while George nodded enthusiastically.

"No, it's technology," says Alexander. You would be shocked by the things that regular people can do, but my Samsung does have a slight magical influence that I placed on it so that it would be compatible with other phones around the world. Plus, I have both magical and non-magical security in case someone tries to steal it. Trust me, there are people in both worlds that would be interested in this little baby. Had to do that because this is more advanced than anything else around," he cryptically answered. "And this green icon here is the phone part." He touched the green symbol and immediately a series of numbers came up. "With this I can call anybody in the world and talk to them. And communication in instant so it sounds like we're talking to each other in the same room. Invoices perfectly clear. It can send and receive messages both written and in something called voice-mail. It can find people's contacts and I can recall the information and hit just one button to phone. Sadly, the internet isn't up to par yet here."

"What is an internet?"

"I'll have to show you one day. It's easier to show you rather than try to explain it."

Speaking of which, he would have to connect his computers and phone to the net of his true home. A mystical commlink would do nicely. He'd have to research this to make sure some unwanted entity of force didn't try to hitch a ride to this world. This place had enough trouble coming down the pike for him to inadvertently adding to it.

Arthur, perhaps for the tenth time examined the small 'phone' with intense interest. "How does it work? Non-magical technology shouldn't be able to do the things that you've just showed us. Where are the gears? Where is the wiring? It's impossible for a phone to be this small."

Alexander just laughed. "If I explained it to you, you would have no idea what I was talking about. It will say this. The non-magicals use technology the same way you use magic. And we're becoming more advanced every day. To you, technology _is_ magic, no-mag magic." The men heard a sizzling sound and then the scream of the delight just as all four of them ducked once more. Black smoke filled the store just as the shopkeeper snatched the latest wand from Ginny's hand. "I think he's doing that on purpose."

Arthur, Fred, and George thought about that, and then agreed with Alex. "It's so exciting for the first-years to get their wands. I think he's just adding a little spice to the excitement. I also think it gives him a bit of a thrill to see their faces when something happens. It enhances the quest to adulthood."

"I can see that. But blowing up stuff's also fun. In any case, here's my card. There's no way I will able to explain how this phone works to you in a way that you can fully understand, at least not here. But I can show you a lot of other pieces of non-magical technology that you've probably never seen before, and I will be to explain those to you. Some of it, you will be able to take apart and I can show you exactly what's in them and probably," he added, "show you how to put them back together again. All of it will work in the presence of magic so you won't have any problems there. Should be fun."

"Non-magical technology doesn't work in our community," George complained.

"It's been proven that magic interferes with no-mag science," said Fred.

Harris stared at them both as he tried to decide if he should share his secret.

"Boys, Mister Weasley, I'll tell you a secret. Magic or rather bio-magic that you use does have what is called an electromagnetic effect on non-magical technology. But its minimal and most products today aren't affected. But here in your communities, there are wards and spells in place to make sure that it doesn't work. I think it's done to keep our two worlds separate and to continually prove that magic is superior to anything non-magicals could possibly create. As for myself, well, I've gotten around those wards." He looked knowingly at Arthur. "Why are they doing that?" he wondered out loud. "Something you should think about."

Arthur looked as if he had just received the greatest gift Christmas gift in the world ever. At the same time he looked pensive. Why would the ministry do that? It was a foolish thought. He knew exactly why the old foggies would do such a thing. He couldn't help it, the thought of them doing such a thing hurt him. "I would be delighted to come to your shop one day, as soon as its open."

"I look forward to seeing you there," Alexander responded. "I have to go now. Things to do, places to be. I'll see you again," he said nodding to all three men. "Please tell Ginny that I hope she truly enjoys her new wand...when she finally finds one, that is."

"Goodbye," waved Arthur as the American left the store. He glanced at the card.

_**Xander's Magic Shop and Curiosities. Proprietor Alexander Harris, Arts Master. **_

A few seconds later, he heard Ginny's squeal of delight and he smiled.

"I found my wand!" she yelled. The with the up most decorum that she could muster, she commanded, "Pay the nice man please, father!"


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

_**Diagon Alley**_

It took a while living in Wizarding London for Alexander Lavell Harris to force himself go get used to such a quaint little community. It wasn't as bad as Africa had been with the trials of being with the Mini-Slayers, and some of the food, and the weather, and some of the animals like the very dangerous hippos, the hyenas who liked him and insisted that he join their packs (which he kinda understood due to his connection with 'Primal Girl', who had never fully left him), , and some of the people he'd met while over there. The far majority of the people were wonderful, and he made many friends there. But almost all of the warlords and seriously crazy witch doctors who had access to the old ways were a true pain. All of them had power but possessed none of the wisdom that went with it, forcing him to fight them with as much ferocity as he had the vampires and other dark entities inhabiting the part of Africa where he was stationed. But that was a long time ago and there were worse things in the world that he and his friends had to contend with in those days.

For example. the Wolf, Ram and Hart on one side and the Powers That Be on the other, were major pains. Their problems were that they both assumed they had authority above their station, and they acted as such. This attitude and the lack of common sense due to that arrogance was what almost set the world on fire.

Alexander was lost to his thoughts thinking of the good old days as he slowly walked towards the Gringotts Bank about three blocks away. Most of the people that passed him gave him strange looks which he ignored. That wasn't unusual in small tightknit communities. Strangers were always seen as someone to be wary of, but it wasn't that bad. Some of the locals had seen him around and were comfortable enough to speak to him in somewhat friendly I-acknowledge-your-existence kind of way and had nicknamed him and his associate the 'American Colonials'. He didn't mind as he kind of encouraged it, plus it was good for his soon-to-be-open business. he maintained that lazy relaxed attitude needed to establish himself and allow people to get used to him without being overly threatened.

Diagon was a quaint little place and everything he'd imagined a nineteenth century village would be. It was like a lot of the small English villages in some of the outskirts of Bristol he'd visited in the last few months. More importantly though, it provided him with a secondary base of operations to do what he needed to do to help save the world.

To any of the old Scoobies, this was like stepping into a Victorian imagined past mixed with knowledge of the early Nineteen Hundred and a touch of the Nineteen Twenties. If Faith was here, she would have been nuts.

Dawn, her husband and her kids would probably have collectively died by now due to lack of internet access. He could imagine Dawn screaming now. "it's the 1990's! What's wrong with these people!"

He was so glad that Willow wasn't here. It would be a disaster.

There was little doubt in his mind that these magical community were some of the most isolationist people he'd ever seen and he honestly worried about their future.

There was nothing wrong with being isolated to some extent and Alexander admitted that these people had a legitimate fear of non-magical people coming to exploit, control and kill them. This community was extremely powerful but their fear of the non-magicals had left them ignorant and vulnerable. Their opinion of non-magical people was that they were primitive, violent, uncivilized, ignorant, and had had no respect for others not of their own kind. They were a stupid people.

But, weren't they guilty of being the same, oblivating any normal who knew of their world without restrictions or consequences? They were doing this more and more, all of the time almost without restrictions. Magical communities all over the world were becoming more aggressive in their memory wiping of any no-maj or no-mag considered an even possible threat or had seen something they shouldn't have. That was bad enough, but these same people were quickly extending their definition of what said threats meant. Alexander's growing numbers of sources were informing him of rumors that they were actively going after the few magical communities that were not wand users, taking their memories and therefore their abilities all in the name of security. He and others were here to stop this. Traditions were good, but oppression wasn't. They were literally destroying the other sources of magic in this world, magic that helped keep the balance.

It was a concern that needed to be addressed sooner rather than later but that wasn't his first worry. The consequences that happened because of Glory, the moron goddess and what she unleashed into the multiverse in her quest to get home was the stuff of nightmare. The Scoobies had closed the rift, but the cracks had allowed things to get through and for other things to become aware of opportunities that they were once denied. No one had known of the damage at the time. Those dimensional fractures that ran across time and space allowed entities that should not have been allowed in this world to gain access. Whether it was from the past or the distant future, it didn't matter. The world had been seen and there were entities that lusted for such fresh meat.

Those 'all-wise' morons, the PTB didn't see that coming although it was so obvious that they probably tripped over it a couple of times. The evil law firm's CEOs didn't think past next week if it didn't interfere with their plans or bottom line. Both sides missed it and the enemies that they feared crushed them in a matter of months. Fortunately, the Powers above the Powers That Be, stepped in and contained the threat, but not everywhere, which was in part why he was here.

"I'm spoiled," he whispered. "Give me good old London any day." Looking towards the clouded sky he muttered ironically, "Giles, I take back everything I said about the land of tweed."

People who heard him muttering paid him no attention. Afterall, it was just 'the American' doing what Americans did. Those colonials were strange.

Sometimes, it was good to walk in order to get the layout of the land. It gave him a feel of the place. He could sense the wards and spells caste upon the entire area. The place was filled with magic, old and powerful. But the basics were all the same, all originating from the same source.

Still lost in his musings, he nearly bumped into a young couple exiting the bank. Looking up, he mentally slapped himself. He needed to work on his awareness of his surroundings more often. His instructors drilled that into him, but obviously, he still had a bit of trouble with that particular lesson. Even in Africa he was slapped by the harshness of that lesson a couple of times. He had his master's degree now and he vowed not to be caught off-guard again. Thinking of the bank's motto, he smiled because the words were true. _Fortius Quo Fidelius, _meaning s_trength through loyalty. _He could definitely relate.

The structure looked like an oversized marbled version of a magical Fort Knox. Unlike most banks in the normal world, this one had several guards with ancient, very sharp weapons standing next to the door. Said guards literally glared at the patrons, as said patrons entered and left the bank. Each of the guards wore what looked to be archaic but functional armor. Alexander assumed that both the weapons and the armor were magically enhanced.

What struck the man were the looks of absolute contempt the guards had for the people, and how completely unaware the wizards and witches were to their attitudes. He'd read some of the history of the Goblin Wars, but he didn't expect to see the open animosity that they exhibited. The patrons were oblivious, and he had little doubt that any serious infraction could well start another war. The magical humans felt they were safe. Xander doubted they were as safe as they thought.

Maybe it was his natural paranoid but as he entered the bank, he could feel the aura of menace that pervaded the establishment. Years of being on the Hellmouth and then in Cleveland, not to mention in some of the more dangerous parts of Africa had honed his senses. Sometimes it wasn't the fast vanishing jungles you had to worry about, it was the sprawling cities which hid a significant number of vampires. The feeling he experience here was almost as bad as the feelings he had in New _York._

'_Oh, those were the good old simple days where there were only vampires, demons and occasional madmen to worry about',_ he thought.

The line to the tellers was long and he waited approximately twenty minutes to get to one. These may have been the most civilized of the goblin species that Xander knew of but there was no doubt that they were of the same family, just less overtly savage. Most of the goblin species were savage animals bearing a hatred of anything not their own that was truly frightening. For many of them, it was kill, or be killed if you were human, elf, or anything else. Here, they were just annoying unless you screwed with them. This was expected, so he was prepared.

The goblin tellers were in no hurry to conduct business with their patrons and in this the patrons did notice. Being the only bank in town other than the gnome Federated Savings and Loans whom few people trusted with their money, the people gritted their teeth at the disrespect and waited their turns. The goblins obviously enjoyed their influence and the ability to stick it to the wizards and witches in every way possible–legally, of course. Alexander was also that the people here were so used to it, they likely didn't even realize what the goblin were doing it anymore.

After a seeming eternity of waiting, he finally, he stepped up to the booth. The name of the goblin teller who was sneering at him was on a placard. Xander had no intentions of trying to pronounce it. As was custom, this goblin barely glanced up at him, however when he did so, his eyes widened for an instant. Normally wizards didn't wear capes and this cape somehow impossibly looked threatening. Furthermore, rarely did Americans come to the British branch to do business.

"What do you want," the unnamed teller growled as he tried to intimidate Alexander and show his disdain at the same time.

"I want to do business with thus sorry excuse of a bank," he growled back. "Correction, I mean to do business with a sorry excuse for a minor bank employee. I want to open an account here but looking at such incompetence, I wander if I've made a mistake," he said. And then he whispered something that made the goblin teller blanch.

His eyes flared in surprise and anger. "That was the old tongue," no-name gasped. Other than a few words, that language was lost to time and only a few knew how to speak it. But every goblin knew the intonation and a few insults of that lost language. Then he stood still in shock as the caped American proceeded to further insult hm and his family in the old tongue. Most of the words went over his head, but he got the point most eloquently. The teller was enraged. He was also intrigued. "How do you know our language? How do you know of the old tongue?"" he demanded.

"_One_ of the old tongues," Harris corrected. "I know several, but it doesn't matter to you, does it? What I want is to open a bank account at this sorry establishment, if you can get off your behind and help me or get someone more competent get someone else."

The goblin looked at him for a long moment. "Wait over there," he said pointing towards a small chair off to the side. The teller disappeared though one of the many back doors behind him.

The people behind him sighed in frustration. Their wait was about to get longer.

After a few minutes another goblin opened a small door off to the side and motioned Xander to come with him. They walked through several corridors before they got to the goblin's office. The man was unsurprised that the office was larger than most. His introduction–using one of the old languages was more than enough to capture their interests.

As Xander sat, the old goblin did the same. Immediately the goblin started speaking. _"I am the manager of this fine establishment,"_ the male said in the same old tongue that Xander had used. _"You wish to open an account?"_

Xander didn't miss a beat_. "Yes, I seek to create an account at this bank. But I'm here for a second reason which I will discuss with your Head Manager later."_

The old goblin almost sneered and would have, if it weren't for the almost flawless way the human spoke the goblin language. "How did you learn to speak the old tongue?" he finally asked in English. Only a few souls on Earth know of that language.

Alexander snarled it nicely. "That is the second reason why I'm here. But first, I want to open an account starting with three thousand pounds, normal currency."

"That's all?" the goblin grumbled. "I expected more."

"Guess what?" Alex said matching the ferocity that the old goblin used. "My account is priceless to your bank. Money is good but it's far from everything of value."

For the first time. the goblin's stare wasn't filled with the contempt that pervaded the other goblins he'd seen so far. "We shall see," the goblin with no name allowed. This wizard interested him as far as humans could.

My associate said that you want to open with three thousand British pounds. Normally I would have one of my underlings prepare the papers, but I will do this personally. Your 'introduction' demands this. I am curious why you're here and it's not just opening an account with our illustrious institution, is it?"

"Good" said Xander giving off a sinister smile. "Now, continuing the introduction, would you be interested in completing this application in the old tongue, just for practice? I have no desire to use words like 'sorry' and 'incompetent' when I speak of this institution. I want to know what it's like to work with a first-rate establishment without first having to insult those who work for it. then we will discuss the real reason I am here."

"I accept the challenge," the goblin growled amiability. This human was intriguing and had offered honorable challenge using words instead of weapons. The aged goblin rarely had the opportunity to speak in the ancient language so wouldn't waste the opportunity. Besides, he wanted to see how fluent this 'American' was.

For the next half hour, the goblin found himself pleasantly surprised and he learned a bit in the process. This, of course irritated him somewhat knowing that the human knew more than he did about the obscure language. However, he was never one to ignore new knowledge.

And learned he did.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

_**Gringotts Bank**_

"Your blood work is completed. Sign here, here, and here," the bank's co-owner ordered impatiently. "Use this pen to sign your name, Mister Harris" he said as he handed Alexander an ink pen."

The human's eyes lit up in surprise. "A real ink pen," he mused. It was magical, of course, but that wasn't the point. "I thought you'd prefer a quill."

Now, the goblin smiled a toothy grin, pleased that he surprised the human. "We keep up with the times," he explained. "These English wizards like quills so we accommodate them. The pen has already extracted a small amount of your blood without the irritation the quill usually causes of course."

"I expected nothing less from such a notable bank." A few moments he had finished signing and couldn't help but sigh with relief.

"Is there anything else?" the goblin asked in his most bored tone. The fact of the matter was, he was far from bored.

"Actually, there is," Alexander said. Carefully he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a tiny book. The goblin was curious as to what it was as Xander waved his hands gently at the book and it expanded into a huge volume covering most of the desk. The book had a very thick intricate cover, being brown in color inlaid with gold. The edges of the pages were gold plated. The goblin's eyebrows reached into its forehead as he looked at the book in front of him with undisguised greed and curiosity. The title was written in an unknown language; however, it was a definitely goblin-based dialect.

"What is this?" The goblin asked somewhat suspiciously. He had to forcibly move his hand away from the book which seem to draw him closer to it, making him want to touch it.

"This is the fulfillment of a promise passed from generation to generation until this book reached the proper owners. That day is today. This book represents the history of the Ulek people who lived and died many tens of thousands of years ago. Olyasama, the author of this book, was the last of his people of his clan, of that tribe. Your species is a direct descendent to that tribe."

"You're aware of some of the other goblin species, I see," he old goblin hissed. He paused for a few moments as he tried to remember something of the tribe that the human had mentioned. Finally, he gave up. "I've never heard of the Ulek tribe," the goblin snarled, but not in hostility. "We have no history of such a tribe."

"No doubt. This was before your time, in fact it was long before your goblin species settled the lands you now occupy, and you've been here for at least two thousand years. This book is almost eight thousand years old, before the great fall. My ancestors made a promise to Olyasama that this book would be protected and given to the true goblin ancestors when they were found, so that the promise could be fulfilled."

"Eight thousand years? Impossible," the old goblin grinned, amused by such a prospect.

Alexander stared at the goblin intently. "I can give you a short history of those people who lived long ago. Interested?"

"Of course I am, human. Proceed."

Without hesitation, Alexander proceeded to tell his story. "There was great war against a goblin queen who is the Dark Lord of that time. So brutal and vicious was her reign and lust for power that humans, the elves of that kind, and the goblins came together to battle against her forces. So many died fighting her and her forces that there was no counting of the dead. During that time all three races came together, shared their food, shared their weapons, shared the knowledge and in doing that, they were able to defeat the goblin queen. But there was a price for victory."

Despite himself, the goblin couldn't help but be intrigued by the short story that the human spoke of. "There's always a price, so what was the price here?"

"Less than five percent of the elves survived. The humans were decimated, everyone's lands ruined by the ravages of war. The few goblins of that clan to survive were free from her terrible tyranny; however, before her head was removed, she cursed the goblins that fought against her. The Ulek tribe, the most numerous and powerful of the time suffered a terrible plague that all but wiped them out. One of the last survivors that hadn't fled across the Unforgiving Sea–Atlantic, gave his life to chronicle this book. It is the Book of Olyasama. It is the details of his life and history of his people including the goblin wars fought between three the species, of the glorious victories and terrible defeats. It details the curse that was placed upon them. He passed this historical book to a human, an ancestor to be protected and when the right time came it was to be passed on to one of his distant surviving descendants who might have survived the plague that visited them all."

The goblin was surprised but he was also suspicious. "Why would one of my people possibly trust the human was such a valuable treasure? Humans have never respected us. We've had wars with them because of their filth and arrogance! The wizards and witches here have kept us bounded, nearly enslaved. We may have lost the war, but we still remember! So, I ask again. Why would one of my people lower himself to entrust you, a human and your ancestors such a treasure?"

"Because back then, humans, goblins and other races worked together for the good of them all. They didn't have the same prejudice that exists in this day. Yes, they fought one another, but they also work together. As you would expect not all goblin species worked together and they were much hated by your people and probably everybody else. But that's ancient history for us. I'm fulfilling my promise now to pass this book on to you… Free of charge, of course."

"Ah, you will be free of a blood oath," the goblin said. "Ah. This I understand."

"There was no blood oath, just a promise to be fulfilled," Alexander responded surprising the goblin. "Here, it is yours now." Alexander opened his palms inviting the goblin to take the book.

Greedily, yet cautiously he took the book and opened the first page. The words were in the language that he had seen only in a few obscure notes. There was no known full text anywhere in the goblin world.

Naturally, Alexander had anticipated this. "The book is written in a language that you not familiar with. There are two things that you need to know. First it is a magical book and as such it will defend itself if placed in the wrong hands. The fact that you can open and look at the pages means that the book has accepted you are of the Ulek clan. In order to read it, first…" Here, Alexander again waved his hands and said ancient words in a goblin language that sounded strange yet very familiar. Then he pulled out a knife, a small knife and cut his finger and allowed three drops of blood to hit the book. The book glowed brightly and then the glow faded. "That is the completion of my part of the promise. Now you must do the same."

The goblin took the offered knife and cut his finger with his own knife. It wouldn't do to be foolishly poisoned using a strange blade offered by a human. The humiliation to his family would be too great. Three drops of blood touched the cover of the book and were instantly absorbed. The book glowed even brighter and there was a twinkling sound which filled the room,

"The book has accepted the fact that you are one of the ancestors. It is now yours. You cannot magically translate it. but note, if you look at the first few pages there is an alphabet and a dictionary. I personally believe that Olyasama wanted his people to learn the language the old-fashioned way. It's a way for you and your people to not just read but learn of the old ways and a history of a people long gone."

"You give this to us freely?" Goblin asked, stunned at such a gift.

"Yes," the American responded somewhat exasperated. "But I have also come to you with a warning. The so-called dark Lord that everybody's afraid of, isn't the only problem that faces your world. The goblin nation is threatened by hidden forces intent on destroying you simply because you exist. Voldemort isn't the only one with an agenda of purification. There is an organization that believes only their kind of magic should exist. They are intolerant of any other kind. This means you cannot exist in their vision of the world they intend to create. Soon I believe you're going to war."

"You do not fear He-Who-Must-No-Be-Named."

"Why should I" Alexander simply asked the goblin.

The goblin snarled at this man's impertinence and his information. It frightened him because he knew that this was an extreme possibility and the human was most likely telling the truth. Furthermore, the human didn't flincj at the use of the Dark Lord's name. but his words…

His people barely tolerated wizards in the first place so he could easily see an expansion of a war that they already fought once before and lost. "Tell me," he growled.

"It is a well-funded and very secretive organization with operational sites all over the magical world. They're beginning to make their moves. Because they are, their organization is beginning to be exposed. That's why I'm here. My organization has been assigned to fight against these people so that we could avert an even greater tragedy. I'm hoping that my people can come together with you and yours to deal with this threat. These wizards have no clue about what's going to happen. They are as threatened as everyone else. This organization wants magical domination. They plan on absolute rule and your people are not part of the equation." Alexander's two eyes fairly glowed with arcane power. Staring at the goblin and then glancing at the book, he continued. "The book is a gift and the fulfillment of a promise, but I hope that it can be a bridge gate for us working together."

"Goblins don't trust humans but tell me more."

"I will, Alexander promised. "But now is not the time. There's too much to tell and you need to talk to your people and let them know what I've told you. And then you must test the veracity of my words." Alexander smiled at him. "Never trust a human."

"True," the goblin smiled, and it was a genuine one this time. "Know that the Goblin nation appreciates this gift in which you have given us. It will not be forgotten. We will contact you soon."

Alexander smiled. "We'll contact each other." Getting up he handed the goblin a card. On it was his address in London England.

Diagon Alley England Year 1992 Twenty-Four days later

Ten minutes before _Ollivanders_ was normally set to close, Garrick flipped the 'open' sign in the window to 'closed'. The day had been busy, but not as much as earlier in the week. Several people had come in with cracked or broken wands. As his specialty was in repair as well as wand making, he did a brisk business, enough to pay the bills and make a small profit. Lately, some of the younger wizards were coming ion for repairs, mostly cracks and in a few cases, broken wands. Unlike their parents and older siblings, the younger ones didn't take care of their wands as well as they should especially when the excitement of having one began to fade. It was something to be expected. Everyone was excited about receiving their first wands and many of the young ones even slept with them, or unintentionally slammed their wands onto tables or slammed them into walls or stepped on them accidently. You name it, he had seen it. those were incidents that always occurred among the young ones–and drunks. He wished they took care of such a precious gift, but accidents did happen and unlike the reparo spells used to repair other items broken or smashed, it was impossible to use that spell on wands. Wands were too finely a crafted instrument, one bonded to its user. Simple repair using reparo didn't work. Even he couldn't use it to repair wands.

It required a human touch.

Naturally, he used variations of the spell all the time in his store. Many of the children receiving new wands caused significant damage, but never so much that he couldn't fix the damage. Pureblood children, the rich ones were especially destructive. Sadly, there were a number of children who broke their wands in their first year. Fortunately, their parents were rich enough to buy their little gits new ones and Ollivander was glad to be of service. But when a core was misaligned, damaged or destroyed, it was his wisdom, expertise, knowledge, and hands that were needed to save the day or replace the wand. Rarely could a damaged core be used again. And a purposely snapped wand?

Forget it.

Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged that his first love was wand creation, as it was for his father, his father, and his father before him. The men and women of the Ollivander clan dating back generations were masters of their craft. He loved his work and never so much as now. He had labored and created his first quad-cord wand. The oak and ash wand was somewhat thicker than most of his more traditional designs. It reminded him more of a weapon than a simple wand. Here, he shook his head. There was nothing normal about this wand.

It took him days to select the right woods. The inner Ashwood sheath contained the quad core. That was the second challenge. He spent hours preparing to properly encase the core into the Ash. Using secrets developed by his descendants, he gently placed the quad core on top of the wood. The prepared Ashwood slowly absorbed the core into itself. The process took several hours and when it was done, he performed several diagnostics. The Ashwood glowed brightly confirming to the master maker that not only was the core magical but also very powerful. In fact, only a phoenix core came close to showing such latent power.

Next, he spent several days selecting and preparing the oak outer sheath. After the fifteenth day, he placed the Ashwood core on top the Oak casing. Within seconds, the integration process began as the Ash core was absorbed into the Oak sheath. That process took five days to complete. He was intrigued by the entire process. He could feel the magic of all three parts combining and integrating with one another. Occasionally, he saw sparks form and dissipate as the proto-wand, for a lack of a better word, gestated. In and of itself the energy discharges were unusual as wands rarely showed their power while they formed. One could naturally feel it, but not see it as he saw it then. The fact that it did so intrigued and frightened him. He could feel the savageness and determination boiling inside the wand. But he also felt its protectiveness and its desire to defend not just its owner but others as well, so much so that he found himself talking to it.

Normally he muttered to himself as he worked, but never did he actually speak to the wand itself. Shockingly, he could almost feel it trying to answer some of his unasked questions, telling him not to be afraid because it was a defender, a protector, a warrior's instrument

On the twenty-second day, he gingerly took the wand and polished it. He spent hours waxing and removing any perceived imperfections, making it perfect for its owner. The wand seemed to preen as he worked on it. The specially prepared wand case reflected the same love and care that that he had made the wand with. It was one of his greatest works if not the greatest. The twin Phoenix wands were perhaps his best work, but he wouldn't want to live on the difference trying to determent which ones were the best.

Precisely at seven fifteen P.M. Alexander Harris gently knocked at the window door, Quickly the older man eased around his counter and opened the door.

"Mister Harris, it is good to see you," he said warmly shaking the younger man's hand.

"I got your call and came over as soon as I could. I've been working on the store doing final preparations," Alexander responded. "An owl, just to deliver a message two blocks away?" he questioned.

"We use them too much, I confess," he answered. "But they're convenient and fast. It's the most common form of sending messages. And it's cheap."

"True. A phone call would have been better though."

"I confess that I've never actually used one although I've seen them once or twice. But muggle devices such as the telefones don't work here." He stopped and stared at the American with wry eyes. "Perhaps though, I might be mistaken?"

"Perhaps." Harris answered. "When I officially open, I'll show you some no-mag ways that if nothing else, will save wear and tear for you owl."

"I look forward to visiting your store. Now, I must show you one of my, if not the greatest, the most interesting works." He turned with Alexander following him close behind. Alexander stood in front of the counter as Garrick pulled out his wand and brightened the room. Candles lit up and the room was a bright as day. Garrick pulled out an engraved Oak box. Carefully, he opened it revealing the beautiful, deep brown-colored wand. "Take it and give it a swish. You'll know immediately if it accepts you."

Harris took it and held it in his and as for a moment. "Girls, let's see if you like it." His barest movement caused the wand to glow and filled him with warmth. "Very nice," he said. "The craftsmen ship is excellent. I'm a carpenter and I know quality wood workmanship when I see it," he said as he carefully inspected the work of art. Giving it a swish, the entire room filled with color. Impossibly, the room brightened and darkened at the same time.

Garrick looked at the spectacle in awe.

"It's alive!" Alex smirked. "Now, for one final thing."

Placing his new wand on the counter, his hands swept around it and glowed softly. The wand shown with the same glow. Unidentified energies swirled from the American's hands as the elder wand maker looked on in awe at the display of unknown magical energy. The energies slowly floated above and towards the wand and letter formed. At least Garrick thought they were letters, but the language was nothing he'd ever seen before. The lettering floated down towards the wand and moments later, the wand maker could see the golden glowing lettering settle and infuse itself onto the wand. The wand glowed for a moment and the lettering disappeared. Alexander picked up the wand once more and the lettering immediately appeared once more.

"You used wandless magic to seal those runes on the wand," Garrick muttered looking at said wand carefully. "Impressive, but very unusual for someone to be able to do that to a finished wand." As intrigued as he was, he was slightly miffed at the changes being done to one of his masterpieces. Such changes could easily destroy or alter the characteristics. It could even alter the effectiveness of the wand.

Alexander watched the old shopkeeper and understood exactly what he was thing and was concerned about. He wanted to alleviate the man's fears. "It's possible to make changes if you understand the magic and theory behind it," Alexander told him. Those comments made the wand-maker look at him again in another light. There were secrets of wand making that his family had never revealed to outsiders and one of those secrets was the trademark spell that ensured his family's wands were tamperproof. However, this Alexander circumvented that spell with ease. "Those are not runes," Harris told him. "They're words of intent written in an Elvish language unknown to this world." The man cocked his head as he decided to share a secret. "I could have used English, but it looks so much cooler in Nandorin Elvish."

Ollivander frowned as he reexamined the wand."I didn't know the elves had such a written language, if any," he said thoughtfully. "I've never seen any evidence of a written language."

"No," corrected Alexander. "It's not a local elf language or written style from those poor creatures, but Elvish, a totally different species of people. What it says is:

_**The one wand**_

_**Protector of the innocent **_

_**Defender of the weak**_

_**Slayer of evil **_

The look on Alexander's face made the elder man worry about the thing he had created. Alex noticed this and sought to allay his fears. "Mister Ollivander, I know you're curious. And I know that if you're like me, you hate not knowing. Where I come from, there were powerful women, each gifted with the destiny. Elizabeth was possibly the greatest of the line called Slayers. She died a couple of times but apparently, she didn't like it and it didn't take… long story. I'll tell you about one day. She is one of my best friends and I loved her. The second slayer sometimes called the Dark Slayer by vampires and forces of darkness everywhere, which doesn't mean Dark Lord as you know the term, was Faith. The line of Slayers passed through her and she is my friend as well. The third _was_ my best friend Willow. She's a witch, both light and dark. But. Like the others, she is a protector of the world. The last is a primal and she is my friend and protector. All of them are Alphas and they are all protectors. This wand will protect this world from the forces of darkness and evil. That's all I will say right now, other than this..."

His left hand stretched out towards the wand which levitated to chest height. "I name you Jessie!... Yes, yes, I know it's a boy's name, but it can be a girl's name as well, so give me a break, please."

Mr. Ollivander felt a chill go down his spine. He wasn't sure who this man was speaking to. There was something about him that he couldn't place which in itself was unusual, as he was very perceptive. At this point, he couldn't quite 'lock' onto this Alexander. He felt this man wasn't a threat, but he couldn't quite determine what he was…

Immediately, the wand glowed brighter than before and the shop shook slightly before everything returning to normal.

Garrick was no fool, nor was he inexperienced. He felt the magical power in both the wand and the man standing next to him. What he didn't recognize was the magical signature surrounding the American. It was different and unlike any wizard's he'd seen before. "Your wandless magic felt different, almost ancient," noted a very interested Ollivander. "Who are you really" he asked.

"I am the One Who Sees. I am called the Protector of Man. I am a Master of the Arts. I am a man with a lot of pompous titles," he said smiling at the curious shopkeeper.

Jokes aside, Ollivander could sense the truth emanating from him. "What _kind_ of arts exactly, may I ask?"

"The good kind, I promise," smiled the cryptic American. "I'll tell you one day when we know each other better. I have a few more projects that you may be interested in after I get established. Opening a store in Diagon Alley is a pain. You've got more regulations than a store on Fifth Avenue. Now, I believe I owe you the remainder of your payment?"

Alexander Harris closed the door to his not-quite-ready store and pulled down the window shade. The protective wards activated, and he conjured up a comfortable chair, placed the packages on the table and pulled out its contents. These days, he ate healthier but every once in a while, pizza called to him and most of these people here have never even heard of the delicacy. It was a good thing that this New York and Chicago had identical foods that he was used to from home. It was also good that the pocket dimension that he stored his personal stock of food items was available with a gesture of his fingers.

Sighing, he placed his pan style pizza into the stove and turned the setting on 'pizza'. The stove was one of the super expensive kind that had so many knobs and control settings that he still wasn't sure what everything did. The convection oven started up and his quickie meal was cooking.

It was amazing to him that after being here for five months, he could find few people in this magical community that even know what a gas stove was, much less how it worked. Of course, for his use, electric power and gas was magically connected to his home outside of London because there were no such connections here. These people still used candles, magical ones, but still they were candles! It was a fascinating world, with fascinating people rushing headlong into extinction.

Glory, nicknamed 'the Moron', really screwed things up. Her 'there's no place like home' obsession was the cause so much destruction, some of which he and others were still discovering years even decades later after the aftermath of that battle. The collateral damage they she brought was still being felt across several worlds.

In opening the door trying to get out, the dumb cluck allowed things to get into places where they shouldn't have. Well, somebody was watching and given permission to do something about it. So, here he was one of several solutions to the problem.

The sausage pepperoni pizza was excellent he thought as he cleaned off the table. He cleaned his dishes at the sink as he refused to use magic to perform such a mundane task. He respected its power and refuse to take it for granted.

After everything was cleaned up, he focused on adding the finishing touches on his new wand. Gently, he opened the box and levitated the wand to chest level. There were two more incantations that were required before he considered it complete. He pulled out a small knife and carefully pierced his finger which hovered over the newly-made instrument. A few drops of his blood dripped onto the wand and was quickly absorbed.

_It's always about the blood _he thought.

Those drops bonded the wand even more completely to him and his will. No one could ever use it unless he 'allowed' them to. This spell was something that he didn't want to share with the wandmaker who didn't need to know about that little trick until later. Wands were personal possessions and couldn't be properly used by others with the exception of some close relatives who shared similar characteristics and magical commonalities.

This wand however had the option if he chose to allow someone else use it.

The second spell was more intricate. It took a half hour and when he was finished, the was protected and nigh unbreakable. It was a weapon as well as an instrument. When people found out what he was, no doubt someone would get the bright idea of trying to snap it. That thought made him laugh. This wand was for their benefit, not his. Some would think it was cursed, others would fear it, but there would be a few that would see it for what it was.

He decided to get some rest. The store was opening in three days and he had a lot to do tomorrow. Stretching lazily, he created a porter and stepped through to his home in London.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Master Xander**_

_**Chapter Five**_

'_**Opening Day'**_

"Come, come my dear," Arthur Wesley implored.

His wife, Molly shook her head amused by her husband's antics. She hadn't been in Diagon Alley in a while with her husband and although she wouldn't admit it out loud, it gave her quite a thrill being out on the town with her man. The children were in the exploring the candy and joke shops, so the two adults had a few moments for themselves. Arthur's quiet, snappy, and totally inappropriate jokes whispered in her ear made her blush uncontrollably. She thanked Merlin that the children weren't around. But she loved his innuendos which was probably one the many reasons why there were so many little Wesleys running around in the first place.

The children were about to go back to school, and she had acquired their secondary supplies for them. With so many of their children in school, it was a strain on their meager budget, but they survived, with a little money left over to splurge and spend a day out together.t. That meant that she and her husband could breathe a bit.

Harry Potter was with her son Ronald and knowing them they were at Honeydukes, spending their last coin on chocolates in preparation for the train ride to Hogwarts. Molly and family adored Harry and she treated him like one of the family. She suspected that Headmaster Dumbledore somewhat encouraged this, but she really didn't care. She was a mother by nature and she naturally gravitated towards Harry anyway.

In all honestly, she was worried about poor little Harry as much as any of her other children perhaps more so. He was so thin, and she idly wondered why his relatives skimped on the food for a growing boy. Maybe they couldn't afford enough to properly feed themselves and she make a mental reminder to ask Dumbledore about that when she next saw him.

Meanwhile, her husband was steadily coaxing her towards his intended destination. The store was already in sight and Molly frowned a bit. It looked out of place somehow as if it didn't fit.

_Xander's Magic Shop and Curiosities. _

_Strange name,_ she thought. _Who would name their child Xander?_

This Alexander her husband was so excited about knew they were coming. He was at the front of the shop, looking intently at her and Arthur while they approached. Her husband was beaming, and she couldn't help but smile at the joy radiating from him. Grabbing his hand, Arthur shook it vigorously.

"Good to see you again!" the man said as he now pointed towards his wife. "This is my wife, Molly."

She actually curtsied a bit to Alex's surprise. Alexander smiled warmly and shook her hand.

She took a moment to quickly access him. Alexander looked to be in his late thirties, more likely early forties, maybe a couple of years younger than she. The streaks of gray in his hair gave him a more mature look. He appeared very healthy, and his lazy somewhat goofy smile somehow endeared him to her, none of which hid the quiet power that radiated from him. Very handsome. But that shirt! What in the name of Merlin was it?

Shaking her head, she dismissed it as an American quirk. No one in their right mind would wear such a thing… except Dumbledore. That was a meeting that she hoped to avoid for the sake of her mind and the safety of her eyes. "So," she asked, "how long have you been in England?"

That seemed to be the safest way to start a conversation with this stranger her husband spoke so much about.

"Off and on about four months," he answered. "I had to get my home set up. Then I spent time at the Ministry and Gringotts getting the paperwork done. I've spent a little more than two months in London getting things together for the opening here."

"You lived among them?" she asked, surprised that he dared do such a thing.

"Yep. I don't have a problem living with normal people. It's quite nice, in fact."

She nodded and pushed away her surprise that he would live among muggles and do so comfortably. She did understand his challenges with the Ministry, having an idea of how much went into opening a store in Diagon Alley. She wondered how he managed to do it at all considering the competition and the Ministry's antics. Plus, he was American, so it had to be hard for him to have succeeded unless he had some very powerful connections which would not have surprised her in the least. But her curiosity was peaked as to how he managed to do it. He was a foreigner in a strange land.

"How do you like wizarding England so far?"

Alexander had to think for a second. "It's so–Nineteenth Century," he finally said.

"It is lovely, isn't it," she beamed.

Alex prompted gently, and she and Arthur entered the shop. To her utter surprise, the twins, Ron, and Harry were already there, trying to examine everything. How they got their first, she couldn't figure out. Probably, it was her husband's fault she didn't notice them heading towards the store because he kept whispering naughty little nothings in her ear.

Harris half closed his eyes. "Yeah, lovely. Real state of the art," he muttered in a somewhat perky manner as he followed them into his store.

"What _is_ this?" exclaimed Arthur the moment he stepped into the shop. The book he spied seemed to call to him.

"That is a book about trains of the world. Every non-magical society has their own version all of which perform different functions. This book examines the different trains, where they travel and how they work. If you want to know how they work and their different purposes, then this is the book for you," Harris said.

Arthur thumbed through the book. "So many kinds! They actually work?"

"Like magic," the American hummed.

Arthur's eyes widened with every page he turned. the paper fascinated him, it being glossy and having such a strange and exotic feel when compared to the parchment he was used to. And the images weren't detailed paintings! They were so lifelike and in superb color. It seemed like he could almost able to reach through and touch it. and it was a non-magical item! He turned a page and saw a set of schematics of the internal workings of a diesel engine train. How did the no-mags create such beautiful images and such complex machinery without magic of any sort?

"It's more complicated," he whispered. "Much more than I imagined. How can they understand, let alone build something like this?"

"Years of experience, success and failures, like everything else," answered Alexander. "This book shows how they work, why they work and their uses. Amazing, isn't it?"

"Quite," answered the stunned Wesley. "I thought they used wood or maybe petrol. I mean all of the smoke had to come from wood or petrol of some kind. But non-magical controlled lightning?"

Alexander refrained from trying to slam his head on the nearest countertop. The pain wouldn't have helped anyway. "You should buy the book," he suggested. "It has a lot of information you'll find very interesting and informative. If you have any trouble understating thing which you will, I can answer some of the question you will come up with…mostly."

"Mister Harris, do you by chance have any books on Aeroplanes and how they can fly and not fall to the ground?" he asked hopefully. "I still can't believe that those contraptions use only use one pair of wings! I thought they needed two,"

He looked so earnest and hopeful that Harris couldn't help but to laugh his heart out. "Haven't you looked in the sky. Planes are all over the place."

"Well, they can't see us through our wards, and we can't see them through the wards. Our magical community is self sufficient and most of us have no need to interact with the outside world."

"There's no need to…" mused Alexander.

"Isn't it like this in magical America?"

"In some places, it is." Admitted the thoughtful younger man. "Change of any kind is hard," he quietly muttered too softly for Arthur to here clearly.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you."

"I was just agreeing with you. America is in some ways as closed off as you English. But it's not important. Back to the subject at hand. Yes, I have some large bound books that shows you most of the modern planes as well as the older stuff. It'll help you catch up. And, call me Xander. All of my friends do?"

Arthur looked up in shock. "Thank you, Xander. I would be honored to be your friend and please call me Arthur."

"Okay, Art."

Arthur blanched and his demeanor changed as he looked at Alexander in utter horror. "Please, please, don't call me Art in front of Molly," he begged looking in the direction of Molly who had wondered off to look at an item that had caught her attention. "She hates that name. She says it makes me sound like I'm a child."

Again, Xander laughed. It wasn't malicious, just a gentle acknowledgment. "a friend of mine used to abuse names just for the fun of it. it got old when people did the same to her. I promise to never call you that in front of your wife." In fact, he promised himself no to do it at all. Buffy made a lot of enemies doing that very thing when they were younger. He vowed not to repeat that mistake, unless it served a purpose, like pissing someone off.

"By the by, how much are these two books?" he asked. He wasn't the richest person in the world he assumed that these books are very, very expensive.

"For my friend, these two books are three galleons each." Arthur looked at him, astonished and more than grateful. Such quality merchandise should cost ten times as much just for the picture alone. "I would prefer payment in British currency, but I don't think you have any of that kind of money."

"The family doesn't use it that much," he confessed. "We don't interact much with the mug–sorry, non- magical world so we really don't have a need for it. But I know we have some somewhere in the house. If you want to wait, then when I return home, I'll see if we have some lying about."

Alexander just smiled. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Your money's good here, whatever kind. I know that the goblins cast the coins, so I assume they're the ones who are responsible from keeping your money separated from the Land of Tweed. But whatever works..."

"You don't agree of our way of doing things?" asked the curious wizard.

The American shook his head. "I understand why the goblins do the things that they do. Their money is tamperproof and copy proof. But to rely on the goblins so much makes you dependent on them. The wizarding community are human. What I don't quite agree with is what your desire to separate yourselves so completely from the rest of the world. I understand your fears, and I can see it as a very strong justification for isolating ourselves. But I think that you kind of overdid it. Your isolationism is your greatest strength, and your greatest weakness. But hey, it's just me, a simple American."

"I've had thoughts about that as well. But it's just the way things are. I would love to have more interaction with non-magical people, but it just doesn't happen."

Alexander nodded in agreement. "Too much isolation is a bad thing, at least in my personal opinion. There are forces in your community that are not helping the situation. As I said before, there are wards all over, making sure that non-magical technology doesn't work in the magical community." He was silent for a second, letting the words and implications sink in. "It seems that there're some people that really like it the way they were and have no intention of changing anything for the next few centuries, if then."

"Arthur smiled at the younger man. "That sounds pretty harsh. But it also makes me wish to see what it was like in California with both of our people mixing freely without us being afraid of being the stake."

"I admit that we have a few people that would have if they could have. People are people, and prejudice is everywhere, and we don't change easily. What can I say? But most people had a lot of bigger problems to deal with," he added. He didn't elaborate but the way he said it made Arthur shiver. "But enough of that. Bring your books to the counter. Then I have a few things I'd like to show you."

While her husband was otherwise engaged, Molly Weasley was busy examining the strange, what had to be, stove. It was a beautiful design. It was a beautiful blend of black and silver. But it had so many knobs! Eleven of them!? Where did the wood go, or what type of magic was used to work the thing?

The (very) high-end stove was indicative of the store itself. It made her feel as if she had stepped into a foreign country. The look was different from anything she'd seen before. yes, she had been to wizarding France years ago, but this store was completely different. First of all, of course, it was decorated American style. The seating, tables, the paint on the walls wasn't like any English store she'd ever been in, not that it was bad, just different. Alexander Harris had tastefully combined a magical-muggle blend of store, apothecary, and restaurant. He was even using regular lightbulbs instead of magi-candles. She had no idea how he was able to do that. Most likely, the light bulbs were magical. That was the most logical explanation that she could come up with although she'd never seen one.

The Paintings (or were they some type of photographs?) were strange but beautiful. They didn't move not a bit. But they were so lifelike that she couldn't help but be impressed by the quality. The pictures caught the attention of others in the store as well.

The pictures were of four women, one blond, two brunettes, and a red-haired woman who could have easily most strikingly been mistaken for a member of the Weasley clan. Two of them looked to be related. But all of them shared the same eyes and if the eyes were the mirrors of the soul then all of them had seen their share of danger, grief, and power. Each one of them exuded a commanding presence. Each of the thirty-somethings looked for than confident. They had to be powerful American witches.

Alexander had just finished serving American pizza to the kids and some of the other customers. For the children, this was the first time that any of the kids had ever had sausage and cheese pizza, and they, like most of the customers were surprised and delighted by the taste. One of the things Alexander discovered was that the wizarding world rarely tasted food from outside of their own community. He decided that they should be introduced to American-style pizza. As he knew it would, this turn out to be a wise decision. He was making a nice profit from customers eager to taste this new unique food from America. Fred and George were delighted by the taste. Ron was busy trying to eat his pizza as fast as possible because he knew his older siblings were planning something. Fortunately for him, Alexander stopped the antics immediately. Apparently, the twins were unaware of the simple truth, that what goes around comes around. It also helped that if anything happened to Ron's food, the twins would be banned from his store forever and ever. Alex meant it and they knew it.

Arthur and Molly were absolutely mortified by the open rebuke that Alex had growled towards their children. They were embarrassed by the twins' antics and added further threats that made the twins back off in horror. Needless to say, they never bothered Ron's food again.

Other things were still fair game, though.

"Hi Mrs. Weasley, I see you looking at my girls, well, women now. Those were taken about five years ago."

"They're very beautiful," she said. Relatives?"

"No. Friends I grew up with. The blond is Elizabeth 'Buffy' Summers. Her sister, Dawn Summers-Jackson, Faith Lehane Janowski, and Willow Rosenberg. I haven't seen them in a long time. I hope they're doing okay."

Molly looked confused. "You can't portkey and visit? I assume they are in Colonies."

"Nope," he answered. "They're far away. "Maybe one day, I'll go and visit when I'm able. For now, England is the place where I want to be. I have a store to run now and things to do."

"Well, I hope your store will be a success here," she warmly said.

"I believe it will," he answered. "And it will give me a chance to see your husband more." He looked around at the store and the incoming customers and window shoppers. "I think we'll like this place, my cohort and partner that is."

Molly rolled her eyes. "With all of these strange gadgets here, I may never see him anymore." She tried to look angry, however she wasn't very convincing due to the smirk that kept threatening to explode across her face. "Please don't corrupt him with muggle, or as you say no-magical contraptions. I'll never hear the end of it," she sniffed. Her smile made it clear that she wasn't really that annoyed.

Alexander just took it in stride. There was something however that disturbed him, and he changed subjects as his curiosity got the better of him. "Can I ask you a question, Mrs. Wesley?"

"Please call me Molly."

"Molly, why is Harry so thin? He looks worn."

She looked at him perplexed as she had noticed the same thing. "I don't know. I think his relatives were terrible cooks, or perhaps they are poor. No, that makes no sense. The Potters were rich. They should have plenty of money. She made a mental note to ask Dumbledore the next time she saw him because she was certain that the headmaster had placed the boy around her children for a reason other than being the Boy-Who-Lived. "I don't know much about them or no-mag culture," she answered. "He really does look a bit thin. That's why I've been trying to fatten him up when he comes over. Hogwarts feeds him well. It'll do him no good if he's too thin at this age. And the medics there will make sure there are no serious problems since he is a growing boy. The school is very serious when it comes for the safety and care of its students. They'll feed them to death, speaking of which, I would one day have you to dinner. All of us would love to have you come over one day."

Alex nodded. "Thank you very much. I would be delighted," he said in his best English accent, which made the matron laugh at his antics. "You Americans are so terrible."

"We try," he told her with an innocence no one with eyes would believe for an instant.

What Molly didn't notice was the dark glance he gave Harry. Suspicion at what was happening to the boy triggered old memories. The' One Who Sees' had a good idea of what was happening at the boy's home. Maybe he would look into it later when things calmed down.

There were quite a few customers coming into store's door, but Alex's head snapped around while he was still speaking to Molly. His smile lit the room as a woman walked in. Her very presence had cause everyone to momentarily stare at her. She was as tall as Alexander. Her hair was long and almost black. She was several shades darker, because of constant exposure to the sun guessed Molly. She looked extremely exotic and Molly couldn't even begin to guess from what part of the world she came from. But it was her eyes and ears that really caught her attention. her eyes were deep brown and her ears were almost pointed at the tips. Fred and George nearly had heart attacks just staring at her. As for Harry, he stole the occasional glance typical of any second year of that age. Ginny looked vaguely jealous.

"Arthur!" she yelled. "Close your mouth!"

He promptly did and began staring at the 'Military Jets and History' Alex had given him even harder than ever.

"Ceraine," Alex said moving to kiss her on the cheek. "You finally made it back. I was getting worried."

"Hey Xander," she answered smiling with those perfect teeth. "I got the package," she said, giving him the wrapped package. "The Onxanda tree trolls were very happy to sell it and promised to supply us with whatever we need within forty-eight hours, twenty-four or an extra fee." She pulled out a deep green wand and conjured a chair and immediately flopped down on it.

Molly noticed that she even flopped with style. If Ceraine was an example how the women were in that part of the world wherever it was, this woman came from she resolved to make sure that her husband never went there.

Alexander smiled as Ceraine conjured the chair. She, like him was a little stiff when it came to wand usage. But the illusion had to be maintained for as long as possible. Both of their weird movements were chalked up as the American way of doing things, a falsehood that worked well so far.

At Molly's curious look, he decided to introduce the woman. "This, Mrs. Wesley is Ceraine Delane, the co-owner of this shop and one of my closet friends."

'_You have a lot of women friend, Alexander'_ Molly thought. What was he, a lightning rod for women judging by those pictures on the wall?

"She's the go-to part of the store. With her connections anything you want, she can get."

"I'm impressed," Molly said. "A lot of people will be interested in getting their items within two days a great convenience. Did you know Alexander's friend?" she asked as she glanced at the pictures on the wall, to Arthur's chagrin. He loved his wife, but she had all the subtly for a bull in a china shop when it came to asking questions or expressing her displeasure as Ron had discovered.

Ceraine and I met at College," he explained. He wanted to get it out now because he knew it would come up again in the future. And besides, he didn't mind telling her or Arthur–without telling them the full story. "After I returned from my Africa tour, I did a lot of carpentry and construction work. That went on for a couple of years before I received an invitation to attend an exclusive university. All expenses paid, full tuition and support, the works. That's where I met her and her sister. I was older but the offer was too good to ignore. I checked it out. School and the reasons why I was picked, I couldn't pass it up."

Ceraine smiled and added her two cents. "Twelve students were selected for the six-year term and one of his friends wanted to attend but was rejected." The glee in her voice was hard to ignore. "She believed it a personal insult that Xander was selected to attend and hot her."

Alexander shook his head at that little understatement. It took a while, but Willow almost went crazy at his acceptance, but not hers. She wasn't invited as the 'board members' rejected her because of her attitude and yes, the darkness she held under such tight control. Despite being his best friend he knew that Willow had a selfish, vicious streak. He was young and he forgave her, but the fact was, _she_ tried to end the world because _she_ was hurt, _she_ was mourning her loss. _She_ didn't care about the world only herself. _She_ was the one who planned to kill everyone and everything so that _she_ could stop hurting. Whether he liked it or not, that selfishness was always with her. No matter what good she did, it was always there lurking in the shadows straining to get out. The 'board members' weren't interested in cultivating one such as her. Her actions had come back to haunt her, and that decision and others made the board flat to out reject her.

It didn't help matters any when she tried to force the issue. As powerful as she was, the 'board members' were in another class altogether. Alex remember pleading with them not to strip her of all her power and her life. Out of what they considered mercy, they merely limited her ability to gain knowledge of their style of magic and for daring to attack them, she was mystically crippled.

Willow never fully learned her lesson, her innate jealousy always compelled her to compete with Xander, always tried to get him to show her the secrets that she so desperately wanted to know.

And Ceraine blocked her at every turn, doing what Xander could not, not until he matured.

Needless to say, the two women outright hated each other. Even after a decade they barely tolerated each other.

"Was this an American version of Hogwarts?" as ked Fred as he was listening intently to their conversation as he was closest to the adults.

"In some ways. It's a small school and you would not have heard of it."

"What's the school called?" asked Fred.

"The Vishanti Southern California University of the Mystic Arts. That's where Ceraine and I received our Master's in the Mystic Arts."

"Mystic arts?" Fred frowned. "Shouldn't it be called the magical arts?"

Ceraine laughed gently. "You can say that the 'Powers That Be board members' liked that name better."

"What do they teach?"

"I'll tell you later, but who knows? Maybe you and your brother will receive an invitation to the school and when you graduate, you'll receive the class emblem, if you are worth." Ceraine answered, touching Fred's hair. The boy almost swooned. Ignoring his male antics, she showed him a weird looking pendent that she wore as a necklace. Alexander had one as well which he used as a belt buckle. Ceraine thought that his doing so was fairly scandalous.

"Is it magical?"

"Oh, yes," Ceraine answered. The Agamotto amulet is a gift for only those who complete the courses and are worthy."

"What does it do?" the young man asked.

"It helps you to see the truth," she answered. Among other things."

"ANYWAY," Alexander interrupted. It really didn't matter. These people didn't know what the Vishanti were, not on this world. But they'd find out later when he was ready to tell them. "Back to our original conversation. If you need a magical ingredient for potions, she can get it. that's a guarantee."

"That's going to make some of the other stores around her dislike you, to say the least."

He bowed extravagantly. "I will enjoy their annoyance and subsequent competition. We'll have things they'll never have or have access to, so to keep the peace, I will have a catalogue of the products for potions and the latest tools of the trade for making them. Traditional is nice but sometimes people may want to make use of other instruments."

Molly sniffed. "We're very tradition. I don't believe your new instruments will make much of an impression to the shoppers."

"You may be right, but we'll see. Here, let me show you some of the non-magical seasonings we'll be selling. These are very popular in the US."

"Are they safe?" she asked. She was weary of using them because, non-magical ingredients might be toxic to normal people like her.

"Of course and everything is described in detail in the catalogue." He paused for a moment. "You do know what a catalogue is?"

"It is a booklet that carries images of your different products for sale?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he confirmed. "Right this way. Let's check them out and you can judge for yourself."

He was half flirting with her, or so Molly believed. She smiled at the thought. She was too old for him, of course. And there was Arthur. Even so, it did warm her heart just a tiny bit.

These Americans…

Their uncivilized disregard for their place in the natural order of things was probably the reason why he was surrounded by so many beautiful women friends. Thank Merlin Arthur didn't that gift, she'd be cursing him every other day.

It was a beginning of a great friendship between Alexander and the Wesley family.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Master Xander**_

_**Chapter Six**_

_**Two Years Later **_

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, liked coming into Alexander's store. It had a strong magical feel to it that comforted him and the customers that walked through the door. There were so many magical artifacts that had captured his attention he first time he came that he was hooked. The store seemed to call to him, calling him back again and again. The proprietor, Mister Alexander Harris wouldn't allow him to examine them too closely other than to look at them. Some of those artifacts and muggle-designed magical devices reminded him of some of the magical items he kept in his office. Like his office, the strange wards that protected these artifacts were quite formidable like nothing he'd ever seen or encountered before which seemed normal when it came to Mister Harris. They were extremely exotic and powerful, so much so that Dumbledore initially worried about thieves trying to steal them, however that worry turned out to be unnecessary.

Apparently, some unsavory and unwise individuals had tried to 'acquire' a couple of items a couple of times and were soundly rebuffed. Those poor would-be thieves still hadn't fully recovered several months post the attempted robberies. The prison mediwitches hadn't been able to do much for them other than make them comfortable while they were imprisoned. Whatever the spell was that the wards projected onto them were still affecting their bodies. It wasn't an 'unforgivable' according to the authorities, but it acted like one against those poor men. As it was a defensive ward and what Mister Harris called a family protection spell, the Ministry left him alone, at least for now. But they were very interested–very much so. In his opinion, the punishment for violating the premises was quite horrible and reminded him of the protections used by the Black family. Their ancestral home was protected with some truly wicked wards and no one in their right minds entered that home uninvited unless they wished to experience the consequences personally. The Black family protections were among the more powerful and dark spells in the British magical community and many were the witches and wizards who suffered the consequences trying to violate that home. Dismemberment and death were the usual results of entering uninvited.

These American wizards had magic that was much different than the normal ones found in England and the European countries he knew of and it made him curious and he was always interested in learning about new magic, but he was frustrated. Sometimes, the Headmaster questioned the reasoning why Mister Harris kept the artifacts in the open so to speak. It seemed as if he was daring someone to come and try to take them. The one time he spoke to the American about it caused him to. Whatever the reasons, the word had spread among the rogues and thieves quickly. Leave the American store alone. People treated Xander's with the same respect as the other stores in Diagon Alley. The result that the wise had no intentions or desire to steal anything from here again.

Mister Harris and Miss Delane were very tight-lipped about his magic so far, but he was an optimist. Some day he would discover soma of their secrets, why they were really here, being one of them. When Albus crossed the threshold, he could feel the strange powerful magics examining him for intent and threats. Whatever they were, these wards recognized him and seemed almost to welcome him. They were some of the most intricate spells he'd ever felt. They almost rivaled the ones at Black Manor and that was saying something.

Miss Delane as usual walked about with her muggle paper and pad doing inventory and checking stock. She flashed that enigmatic smile of hers at him and once more he wondered if she was completely human. The very first time he'd spoken to her, he could almost feel her protections shrouding her mind. He hadn't even considered trying to use legilimacy to find out a little more about the Americans because he was absolutely convivence that either one of them would notice and he needed to cultivate their friendship if his plans were to succeed. Dark times were coming, and he would need allies on his side. Sadly, his people seemed so far unprepared for the coming strife. Plans were being made and his army dedicated, but he was still having problems keeping them from using lethal force when the confrontation finally came. He was unsure if they unwilling to keep from using lethal force. Some didn't understand that the death of ones' enemy wasn't necessary for ultimate victory. There were too few magicals and each death diminished the whole. No, killing was not only wrong but wasteful. This was the point he continually made to his Order, to enforce on them the importance of this mission.

These Americans were just what he was looking for, so he spent the last year and a half cultivating them. Today was the day he would test the waters. The order could use something from the outside, someone that was sure not to be part of Dark Lord's army. Furthermore, Mister Harris' use of wandless magic was impressive. In fact, both of them were proficient in the use of wandless magic, perhaps almost as good as himself. Neither one of them used it in the presence of others, but they purposely, and he was sure of this, allowed him to see glimpses of what they were capable of. What gave them away was the way they used their wands. It was a bit too different, to erratic to be accurate. They were both very good, but he could tell, their skills were–possibly similar (although not nearly as good as his but useful in a time of crisis) to his 'humble' skills using wandless abilities, which he kept secret. That would be useful, too.

They were Americans and as such were considered outsiders to most of the community. Here in Diagon Alley, the were liked but most much of the wizarding community considered them as 'those strange colonials with their muggle ideas. So many in the community ignored them except when they came in to buy those exotic items that the other stores didn't carry. This, Albus knew was their strength as well as their weakness. If things went wrong, he might be forced to lay the blame on them if they were part of the Order. It would be a terrible waste of good resources' but if needed the sacrifice would be made and the loss acceptable, not that that would happen of course. The fact that they were accepted in the community and American made them stand out. They were the first to be suspected and the very last. Their status in the community cause them to be watched by everyone and their actions were exemplary. Even Professor Snape had wandered into this 'American wasteland of a store' as he called it, to purchase several very rare items for his potions. To Dumbledore's initial surprise had found the services 'adequate'.

Severus never said anything directly, but the headmaster was convinced that he was somewhat impressed with the quantity as well as the quality of his purchases, and their guarantee of acquiring anything that he wanted within forty-eight hours had secretly pleased the man.

As to be expected, other store owners were unhappy with the business that Mister Harris' store was doing. The _Slug & Jiggers Apothecary_ had declared Mister Harris's store their enemy, and had more than once called upon the Ministry to try to close the store. Inspections were carried out and the storer was found to be in 'substantial compliance', so much so, that members of the Ministry could be found shopping there of some of the more exotic knickknacks found there. Their continued presence helped Dumbledore's overall plans and allowed him a measure of relief. The Ministry could have caused problems and he was cautious of them. Perhaps the more conservative members would in the future but for now, the American store was relatively safe. When his enemies began to operate in the open, then things would change. The store would be consisted a soft target in Diagon Alley for those who didn't know about the store's formidable protections... And there was another factor that didn't escape his notice but helped his plans. The store wasn't opened as much as one would have expected. Sometimes, it was opened only two to three times a week. Mister Harris was out of town, perhaps in the Americas doing business, or Miss Delane was absent, or maybe both. The stores hours were sometimes difficult to determine. However their absence didn't deter would-be thieves from staying well enough away.

"Ah, Miss Delane, Mister Harris, it is good to see you again. I half wondered if you would be in this evening." His eyes twinkled as he spoke.

Each of the owners smiled and returned his greetings. Xander was dressed in a wonderfully colorful shirt that had a pattern of red and green flowers overlaying a green and white background. It was quite expressive, and he was going to ask where he acquired his clothes from. For casual wear, he felt it might suit him perfectly. Needed a few stars, though.

"Hey sir," Xander responded in a lazy manner. "What brings you to my humble store?" he asked.

"Oh, a couple of things. First, I am still curious as to the origin of those magical artifacts you seem to have lying about for everyone to see." There, he'd said it, bringing up a subject he'd been preparing to do for months. He felt that now was the time to be direct because he suspected that time was running short. "As impressed as I am about them, I wanted to caution you. The Department of Mysteries has taken an interesting in them and may come by to discuss them with you sometime in the future. They may want to acquire them from you."

"So, you've come to warn us?" asked an unimpressed Alexander.

"Yes. It's always wise to be cautions. And I confess that I am somewhat curious about them myself. Being kept in the open is a temptation to some unsavory characters." He sighed in a mild rebuke like Alexander's grandfather might have, if he had known him. "Why do you keep such items in the open? it makes them an easy target."

Alexander seemed remarkable calm considering what the Headmaster had just told him. "These items are not theirs and they are not for sale. And not to worry, your Ministry can't break through those wards."

"Don't underestimate the power of the Ministry's unspeakables," the old man countered in all seriousness. "They are very good at what they do."

"I'm sure they are," Alexander said. "But these items are part of the store's wards and are very powerful. If they are forcefully removed, the resulting energy release will destroy Diagon Alley and much of the local wizarding community. So I would advise against them trying."

Albus actually blanched. "They are that powerful." Were these American insane and unconcerned about the possible loss of life if these artifacts were tampered with?

"Yes," answered the American woman. "There are dark times coming, and we will be prepared for it." Her brown eyes seemed to darken. "We're not fools, Headmaster. Your dark lord is gathering his power and soon he will openly reveal himself."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at the comment, his previous suspicious growing by the moment. "And just how do you know about this?" His own shields had clamped down just to make sure that these people weren't somehow reading his mind.

Neither one of the shop owners answered him at first. Instead. Xander's wand jessie flew into his hand and he waved it. the entire room became muffled. The few other people shopping didn't need to hear this conversation. "Headmaster, Let's be straight with each other. First," he said, trying to calm the man's growing fears, "I am not reading your mind. Second, we've been studying you as much as you've been studying us." now Alexander turned somber. "You are a lot more than you pretend to be. You're a manipulative man who likes to be in control. But I won't hold that against you because I believe you're trying to do something good. What I don't like is what you're doing to the Potter kid," he growled. "Why did you put him with guardians that abused him and why are you continuing sending him back?" he practically yelled. Dumbledore could see the anger in the younger man's voice. "That makes me want to have nothing to do with you…or your precious Order."

_They knew! _

"Mister Potter's position is complicated," he explained, not wanting to give away too much. "I didn't know that his mother's sister and her husband were so abusive to the boy but being with his relatives was the safest place for him to be outside of Hogwarts."

"You mean the blood wards on that house?" asked Ceraine. "Those wards create a danger all its own. Forced spells like that always produce violence and anger the longer they are active. They may protect but they also destroy. They're vile spells. Didn't you know this?"

"I knew there was a possibility that the spell might have negative repercussions but considering the circumstances and the danger to the boy's life, I thought that his protection was more important than the possible negative effects of the spell. The boy needs to be protected and this is the best way to do so."

"In the US, I think you would be in prison right now for child abuse to the boy and what you've done to the relatives. I've watched them. They're animals, all of them. He smiled "I could destroy those blood spells, but I won't. it is not for me to do something about this. It's for you to do it."

"The child will be emotionally crippled if you don't do something quickly," Ceraine added. "Do you want to hurt this boy?"

Dumbledore looked like a trapped animal. This meeting had gone so far off kilter that he was unnerved. These people knew far more than they should have. It had to be their association with the Wesleys. They must have said too much. "I care for all of the children, whether they are in my school or not. I protect Harry Potter as much as I am able to, given the circumstances of his birth and destiny."

"Ah, yes," said Alex. "Destiny and prophecy, the universe's great pains in the butt. Headmaster, I have no clue about what is happening at your school, but I believe that prophecies have tendencies to screw the kid, and everyone around him." The old ma unconsciously gulped, and the younger man's eyes narrowed. "Yes," he whispered.

"You obviously know more than I anticipated. I don't know what you believe, but everything I have done is for the greater good for all of the people of magical Britain and perhaps the world. Mister Potter is pivotal to our survival."

Alexander sighed. "Believe it or not, I understand your fears. What I think though is that you're missing an important point. You believe that your way is best but you're wrong. You need to listen to the advice of those around you. Right now, you are in way over your head."

Dumbledore looked at both of them curiosity. He tried to reign in his irritation. He was not pleased at being called a manipulative old man. He preferred being known as a wise sage. He was a planner and his plans were right whether people understood that little fact or not.

"You're a very smart man, Headmaster. But you don't have the whole picture of what is happening and because of that your plans will likely fail," he said as a now curious Dumbledore stared at him. "There are forces that have come into play that you are unaware of. Those forces intend to use this world as a steppingstone to complete domination." Intoned Alexander who stared back with equal intensity at the professor. "You want know why we are here. I can tell you but be warned, the truth will turn what is left of your gray hair white. Do you still want to know, really?"

The seriousness of Harris' tone was disturbing, but the urgency and seriousness in his voice demanded that the old wizard had to know. "Alexander, you understand that knowledge is power. From what I've gathered from our conversation, you're here to help protect us from him?" he asked.

"Not really," answered Harris. That comment surprised the old man. "We're here to protect the world from what others are going to do."

Dumbledore stood stock still, stunned by the possibility of others that might represent as great a danger as Tom Riddle. Impossible

"Do you believe that your Dark Lord is the only one interested in purifying muggle filth?" ask a sarcastic Alexander. "No, there are others less overt, less ham-fisted who are waiting their time to strike. While you're focusing on him, there are others focusing on these other forces, some that could be recruited in your own ministry. Fudge isn't the strongest leader you have, is he?" he raised his finger as he indicated that this conversation wasn't over yet. But first he had to attend to the last of his customers.

A few minutes later the last remaining customers were done with their shopping and had left the store. Dumbledore felt the wards snap shut, protecting the store once more. The wards were very strong but felt different from Hogwarts and he attributed this to the American style of ward production. They were impressive and fueled by the presence of the artifacts. It was a strange way to defend one's property.

"First, let's go to my home because this is going to be a rather long conversation. Naturally for security's sake, you won't be able to disclose what you discover to anyone."

Dumbledore expected to be portkeyed or apparated to Alexanders home. Instead of swishing his wand, Xander spoke to it. "_Jessie_ do your thing. Home please."

The wand glowed and a strange portal of white and gold opened up in the middle of the store. In the center of the portal, the headmaster could see parts of a large living room. Delane stepped through and the Dumbledore followed after a moment's hesitation, with Alexander at the rear. It didn't escape Dumbledore's notice that Alexander _called_ to his wand and it _responded_.

Now, that was _very_ interesting…

There was no sensation of disorientation, no sense of time as they moved through the space between the space.

"Fascinating," he whispered.

It was like stepping through a doorway from one room to another, the Headmaster thought. It was a new kind of magic different from the usual methods. The small demonstrations of magic Alexander performed needed to be studied. _He_ wanted to study them. Without hesitation, he moved deeper into the American's living room.

"Astounding," he whispered as the portal closed. He could feel the magic emanating thought the home, it being much larger than he expected.

Alexander's wand took off and rested itself on one of the tables near a window. The Headmaster took a moment to look out the window."

"London?" he asked.

"A few miles outside of the city," Ceraine answered.

"We'll have a few refreshments later," said Alex, "but I'll start now so that you can have time to ask questions. "First, welcome to my home, my Sanctum Santorum de Harris."

The wizard took a quick look around the room. It was filled with what had to be magical artifacts, some that he recognized from ancient books. Others he had no clue as to what they were or what they did. There were fairies and pixies in the room, small glowing human looking creatures with wings flirting about doing odd jobs. Astoundingly, there were several different species each working together without conflict or irritation, two of which he had never seen before not even in his extensive collection of books. All of them seemed happy to be the house.

The house itself in some ways felt like Hogwarts. There was magic soaked into the very being of this place. This cause him to look at the two Americans once more, this time with a far more critical eye.

"Just who are you two?" he asked with a bit of trepidation. He didn't feel threatened, but he was worried because he didn't feel in control, a feeling that he wasn't used to.

Alexander smiled. "Our intentions are honorable, sir. Don't worry. But you need to know why we are here and why you can't tell anyone other than a few who already know. Arthur is one of them, so far. He doesn't know the full extent and it would be best for him not to know everything. I don't want his family jeopardized. Please take a seat," offered Alexander. The old wizard did so. One of the tiny pixies carried a huge glass of iced fruit juice and placed it on the table next to him. Being a gracious visitor he tasted and was delighted by the flavor. "What is this?" he asked. I've never tasted anything like this."

"It's a combination of papaya, orange, pineapple and half a squeezed lime and lemon. Add water and sugar to taste. Think of it as a modified lemonade"

"It's wonderful," the man said. "Very exotic and flavorful. Thank you."

"I call it a California blend. Now, let's begin. Where I came from, a little more than twenty-two years ago, a hell-god, the real thing, tried to get home. In order for her to get home she broke the barriers across all worlds and dimensions causing untold havoc. She was powerful, but we stopped her but not in time. She created a crack in the fabric of the multiverse and things that should not have able to breech into other dimensions, saw that crack and squeezed through to other worlds. I don't think you know the concept of multidimensional universe and dimensions. I'll explain that later.

"The problem is that some of those entities came to this world. Many of them are what you would know as minor demons and entities. We have fought and defeated many of them, ether killing them or sending them back in bonds to their place of origin. We are keeping them from infesting the world. But while we are dealing with this, we've discovered another problem. Your primary enemy isn't the only one that threatens the Wizarding world and the world in general. There's an organization of wizards from all over the planet that believe that only one type of magic should exist. To them all other forms are impure and should be purged to keep from infecting ''real' magic. This is what I meant when I said that your dark lord isn't the on problem." Sitting back in his chair he took a sip of his drink. "Trust is a two-way street. I'm telling you this because you need to know. You're the type of man who keeps everything close to your vest."

"I haven't heard that phrase before, but I understand its meaning. So things are better kept secret."

"I agree," Alexander said. "But not if the lack of information will get you killed. Knowledge is power, but hoarding it is a fool's gambit.

Ceraine Delane continued where Alexander had left off. "Your advarsary believes in purity. These people however are taking it a step further. They are obliviating or murdering all other magic users different from their own and should they succeed there will be only one kind of magic left. They want to turn this world back to the 15th century. No advanced technology, no medical advances, nothing that will rise up to challenge their power. We strongly believe that they want to remove the memories and existence of all forms of magic known to non-magical people. This means eventually religions will be targeted and destroyed. For example in the Bible there are miracles and mentions of what could be considered magic. They would ban and remove all mention of that from the Bible and obliviate anyone who has a memory of said miracles or even the mention of them. The other religions would be attacked. In Egypt, several groups of magic users were attacked and wiped out. The few survivors were completely mind-wiped. The wand users were untouched. This organization is powerful and getting bolder. They are takin purity to a new level and the most dangerous part of this is, like so many in power, they don't know when to stop. Someone must stand up and deal with them. This is where we come in, to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

Dumbledore was completely floored listening to Alex's and Ceraine's story. The implications of what these two was telling him were enormous and the battle for his home had just gotten far more complicated. It wasn't just the wizarding world that was now threatened. If he understood Alexander's story correctly, then everything was in the balance.

It seemed as if the weight of the world had descended upon old man. He took another sip of his drink. "What can we do to stop this?" Dumbledore asked. "But before you answer me, I need to know who you two are."

Alexander sighed. "That is a complicated question. But it to put it simply, I am Alexander Harris, called the One Who Sees, called the Protector of Man. I am Alexander Harris, a Master of the Mystic Arts, as is Ceraine Dalene, one of the High Elves of Carastanbza. She is and is not human as you understand the term."

"But still an American as it is the same country in my world" she added. Same geographical location and. Plus, I am an American citizen in his world, but not here on your world yet. Neither of us are," she added. "Just for clarification purposes, in case you were curious." She couldn't help but smile.

Alex just shook his head. Yeah, yeah. Anyway, Her people branch off humanity a bit. They can easily mate with humans and have children, but you can think of her people as an exotic offshoot. But don't call her a magical creature, either," he warned. "We are here to stop the forces of destroying magic for their own gain. That is our mission we are trained for and for now it is our responsibility. We are not necessarily here to interfere with your affairs, but we are here to help keep the outside forces from spreading to other worlds beyond this one. If this organization succeeds, then the world will be crippled for generations. It's a given that the non-wizard magicals, and normal will fight back hard. Then the true terrors will take this world. There are forces just waiting for this to happen and starts with your dark lord here and the organization we're here to stop. The world needs its magic, all the types not just one or else it becomes vulnerable."

"But what are these forces? If what you say is true, I need to know so that I can prepare."

"Well, let me ask you a question first. What is so important about Harry Potter that you dared use blood magics on his home to try to protect him?"

The old man was quiet as he contemplated his answer. "That is a difficult question to answer," he finally said. "There are many who would see young Mister Potter killed. Why this is true is best kept secret for his sake as well as yours."

"Does harry know?"

"I believe it's best that he retains his youthful innocence as long as possible."

"That means no, and that is the reason why secrets kill," Alex told him. "If knowledge is power, ignorance leads to failure. Mister Dumbledore, if you wish to know my business, you'd best learn to open up. Keep your privacy if you wish, but do not ask for information if you can't reply in kind. It's a trust thing, you understand."

"But can't we try to work together for the common good of the world?"

"It's a matter of trust and respect, right now. This is our first talk. There needs to be a trust established and that will take time, something we don't have much of." Alex's smile now looked predatory. "So in order to establish this trust, what do you propose?"

"Getting to know one another may well be a good start."

"Excellent. I agree. You first."

Two hours later, Dumbledore was still reeling from his conversation. If what was told to him was true, then both Mister Harris and Miss Dalene were some kind of specialized Hit Wizards with significant resources to do the job given to them by unknown sources. It was very disturbing, and he would have to take time to understand it all. Plus, the two Americans hadn't told him everything and he hated not having that information, but he had enough for now. And to be honest, he hadn't revealed everything to them as what Alexander Harris said was true. Trust came with time.

There was so much information that Dumbledore needed time to process it and he almost forgot the reason why he wanted to speak to Alexander in the first place. Because of this conversation he had a change of plans. His original reason why he had come to see Alexander in the first place had taken a new urgent significance. As he thought about it, he knew it was the right thing to do. He needed allies and both of these American wizards could be very useful in the war, no wars, to come. \

However, there was a small niggle of doubt irritating the back of his mind. They were not to be trifled with and their responsibilities were formidable. They were needed elsewhere other than in the war against the Dark Lord. Their focus would be split, and this was a concern as he needed to have some measure of control over those that followed him. He required obedience and Alexander might not approve of some things that were required in the quest for victory.

Still…His original plan could benefit everyone and serve as a useful tool of the school. His mind set he asked the question.

"Mister Harris, as you know the new year is about to begin at Hogwarts and I would love to have a man with your expertise on my staff. I thought about asking you to teach a basic economics class. Students always need to know how to handle their expenses wisely. However, because of your terrible responsibilities and your ability to handle them, I wonder if you would accept a position as the Defense against the Dark Arts instruction? Your proficiency with a wand is unique, to say the least and being an American version of an Auror, I believe my students could learn a lot from you. I could arrange it so that you would have limited classes and you could then be free to pursue you other pursuits.

Alexander pondered the request for a moment. "I'm sorry, but no. I could teach them how to defend themselves, but my techniques are completely different than what your curriculum would approve of. My wands movements would be in conflict with your established norms. Plus, it would draw unnecessary attention at this time."

Dumbledore frowned as he furiously thought of a way to get this man and woman to Hogwarts and under his control. There had to be a way. Then he smiled. "Would you then consider teaching a Muggle or no-mage studies class, teaching my students about the life and history of non-magical folk." He shook his head. "I confess that we do lack information about the normal people and their lives. I must also confess that many of our people have little interest in anything outside of the magical world. However, if the children could be exposed now, maybe they could appreciate them as they grow older."

"You make a good point," Alex muttered. "I would need free time to work on the problems we have to deal with. It might be possible though," he mused. If Miss Delane and I shared this class, then we could both substitute for one another when we have to be about our business. if this could be arranged this, then I could see us teaching a class. "

"I believe I can make some sort of arrangement to accommodate the both of you," he said, totally delighted at getting them to Hogwarts where he could watch them closely. "Of course, the pay won't be as much, being new to the institution."

"Of course, we understand," Ceraine said. She smiled back at the old man. With this arrangement, she and Xander could keep a watch on the wizard and be in a position to do what was necessary. It was just a school, but it was a seat of power where destinies and power resided. Voldemort wanted this place under his control. Now, she and Xander were in a position to find out.

Albus Dumbledore and Alexander Harris smiled at one another.

"Would you like your drink freshened?" Ceraine asked.

"Yes, thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Master Xander**_

_**Chapter Seven**_

_**Alexanders:**_

Albus Dumbledore felt hopeful because his makeshift plan appeared to be going better than he expected given the somewhat tense and frankly terrifying revelations of the past couple of hours. The Americans could be very useful in the overall scheme of things, but he'd have to be careful. The two were more than what they appeared to be and wouldn't be easily swayed unless they wanted to be. If what they were saying was true, then they were needed elsewhere and their eventual commitment to fighting against the Dark Lord would be secondary. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He understood the necessity certainly, but it hadn't sunk in yet and he needed to think about what he'd been told. If there were others out there with plans similar to the Dark Lord, then he might be forced to re-evaluate his long-term plans and he hated even thinking about rearranging everything at this date when things were coming to fruition. The Potter boy was beginning to rely on him as a mentor and dare he say a father figure, but that was being threatened now. Alexander knew more than he should, and it would be a waste of time trying to sway him from the insulation that he'd made earlier.

The blood wards at the Dursley's may have been an error on his part however he hadn't seen any other way to protect and control the boy and keep an eye on him. The Dark Lord would have found him and killed him. That was the last thing he wanted so the wards would stay, and Harry would continue to live there until this unfortunate affair was over. Tom had to be stopped.

Albus needed to keep his eye on the prize, keep his primary focus on the Dark Lord before he could truly begin to focus on these other threats.

This ability of Albus 'to direct his focus at defeating the Dark Lord using the Potter boy as an ultimate weapon was one of the old wizard's greatest strength but also his greatest weakness. His ability to see the long view caused him to miss the finer, very critical details. He saw his plans as perfect, therefore he couldn't see the flaws heading his way. They were derailed the instant he involved the Americans. They were the flies in the ointment.

The Americans weren't traditionalists as Albus understood the term. He didn't understand how different they really were. Dumbledore assumed that they would respond favorably to his entreaties, see the logic of his plans and eventually follow his directives. Yes, they could be stubborn about it, but he didn't see that as a real challenge to his authority or his plans. Ultimately, they were just simple Colonials.

That was one of his great mistakes. He underestimated the power of the two Americans. Teaching a muggle studies class seemed innocent enough and this would allow him entry to their inner circle. However it also allowed them a foot into his domain. Having the Americans teach at Hogwarts was akin to striking a yellow-jacketed hornet's nest with a big stick and expecting said maddened hornets to respond favorably instead of chasing you for a few miles while they tried to kill you. He planned to use them not realizing how fully they intended to use him. Albus Dumbledore liked the Americans but that would stop him from using them.

They were thinking the same thing.

Above all Dumbledore wanted his people to be safe. Safety meant stability, tradition, peace and isolation from those who would try to hurt them. The people of the Wizarding world were traditionalist and dint want to change. They saw no reason to. What they wanted was to be safe from the Dark Lord and muggles. Once that was accomplished, life would be worth living. There was safety being isolated community, being surrounded in its own little bubble, just as the non-magicals felt safe in theirs. However things were changing whether either side wanted it to or not and real life on both sides were about to clash violently.

Given the history of the magical community it was more than understandable why separation had become a way of life for the Magicals. Part of the reason was fear of what the normal were capable of. The witch burnings and persecutions of old throughout Europe, in America, and in other parts of the world had left its mark on the magical community with it lasted for generations. It didn't matter that the far majority were innocent non-magical victims. Their ancestors were frightened and wanted nothing to do with a much larger, hostile community that tended to burn their captives alive and use other horrendous actions to kill and maim innocent people who were different from them. The separation of the two culture was the best solution either side could come up with.

Alexander understood the reasoning as well, and the consequences. In the hundreds of years that followed, the fear and anger of the magical community had given way to a collective superiority complex. The magical community had very powerful members that non-magicals weren't equipped to handle or understand. He did agree that their ability to use magic made them more capable, but not to the point where the non-magicals could be considered a waste of flesh as many of the community now believed, even if they didn't say it out loud. This belief was especially true among the Purebloods and those who followed the Dark Lord. People didn't understand that they weren't better, just different.

But then, people were people

As the Headmaster reflected on the superiority of the magical race, he knew that the Ministry leadership couldn't be depended on to do what was right. They were infiltrated with many who carried the dark mark and the Ministry was not to be trusted. Many were compromised and several of the openly corrupt and the Minister Fudge did nothing to stop it. Most others were simply afraid.

.

The muggle-born magicals were being discriminated against with increasing frequency. The squibs, those born with no _accessible_ magic, were either cast out, ignored, or in some cases, quietly killed. That was the ongoing rumor and was something the Ministry never officially acknowledged for fear of losing their jobs or becoming the target of pure-blood retribution. Scandals were frowned upon.

Dumbledore expected that the two Americans would find it barbaric because he felt the same way. He sighed. There wasn't anything he could do at this time to change the minds of the people.

He was only one man.

Even the wise and understanding Dumbledore was somewhat affected by those prejudices, the man solemnly realized. Having grown up in the same community, he knew change was difficult, whether one was enlightened or not. He did want change and the only way–after the Dark Lord was defeated–change would happen was with a new generation growing into their own. If they could really learn something about the non-magical world, it could help change the future. If nothing else, he wanted his students to be better than his generation. It would take generations before both sides could accept the others and he wanted to do his part to see that it would happen. To do otherwise was to invite disaster.

When he looked at the big picture, he could see that the magicals was slowly shrinking as fewer children were being born in each generation. New blood was not being introduced (and sadly that meant muggle blood). It was happening in every magical community, some slower than others but the increase in pace was noticeable to those took the time to see it. In India, their community was the strongest as they had less prejudices against non-magicals becoming part of the family. It was more important that they were of the correct caste. Strange people, he thought.

The European and American communities suffered more as little new blood was introduced to regenerate the community. The purebloods were already having less and less children as, dare he say, those families were coming close to incestuous as they tried to keep their blood unpolluted by 'muggle filth'. The Wesleys on the other hand, seemed to be the exception to the pureblood infertility rule, God bless them. Otherwise, it was a losing battle, and few seem to realize it. This especially true in England. This was why he was becoming more convinced intruding new ideas about the non-magical community would be another step in the right direction.

"I might consider that position," Alex responded slowly as he thought more about it. "I think a modern no-mag class would be more relevant to your students. For example, we've had people go to the moon and come back. They've discovered new species of dinosaurs and developed technologies that the magical community needs to know about. People are people, magical or not. Each side has abilities and gifts that I think the other side could be blessed with, if they just knew about it."

"Optimist," Ceraine purred.

"Always hope for the best," said Alex, smiling at her. "And make sure you have a good stake," he quietly added.

Dumbledore ignored the byplay between the two. What Alex had just said had shocked him to his core. "Mug-non-magicals went to the moon? Without magic? How?" asked a stunned headmaster. "I confess, I've been unaware of the progress of the outside community." He looked thoughtful and worried. "There's much I need to learn, I see. I think you would be great access as a professor at our school. Knowledge is power, after all."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Alexander comment quietly. "You're aware of some of the things I am involved in. If it could be part time and Ceraine would have to be there as my assistant. I can't stay there constantly, and she would take up the slack when I'm called away and unavailable. Can this be arranged, Headmaster?"

"Of course. I could arrange this easily. It is a bit unusual, but I can find a way."

"Don't worry about the money. It's not a real concern for us," Alex said.

"Speak for yourself," Ceraine muttered lightly. "If I am going to teach, I want to get paid,"

Alex smiled brightly while headmaster actually laughed.

Alexander shook his head in bemusement. Will and Buffy would be shocked knowing that he was willingly entertaining such a notion of accepting a teaching position. Then again, maybe they wouldn't. They were by no means children.

Gone their separate ways, still maintained that close friendship, a band of brothers and sisters bonded to each other in ways that only a select few could ever understand. Time, however, had a way of separating. Buffy, Faith, and Dawn married. Faith and Dawn had kids. Tragedy struck and Buffy lost her first child when a demon clan, upset by her presence in Cleveland attacked her home. The battle that raged across the city and the vengeance Buffy, her family, the Slayers, Willow, Xander and Andrew reaped was still talked about in hushed tones in the supernatural community. Buffy eventually rebounded (slowly) and the Slayer school kept her busy and sane during those traumatic years. Her other two children were kept close by a group of overly protected superpowered family. he smiled because he knew what they were going through.

When Alex came back to the States, of course everything had changed, and his personal calling had taken a different direction. The suppressed memories of Steven Strange, M.D. Ph.D., had slowly been forcing its way into his conscious. The Halloween incident had an unforeseen effect on him. He had dressed as a soldier that chaotic night, gathering a few things from his uncle to fill out the costume. He only had a few dollars when he had visited _Ethan'_s costume shop. He saw the Medal of Honor. The history was something that Ethan didn't have details of, only that Major Strange was a doctor and died in the service of his country in the late Sixties. According to his biography, Strange was killed in the line of duty in Vietnam.

By all accounts, the people who knew him expected him to become one of the greats. His specialty was neurosurgery and a gifted general surgeon. During one of the major offensives, the medical unit was overrun, and he was killed along with many the US forces defending the small base. He was personally commended for killing at least nine enemy combatants defending his patients.

The man was known to be egotistical and arrogant and few of the people who knew him actually liked him, but he was respected by every one of those who knew him. Naturally, this That was a before Xander's time. How Ethan came into possession of the medal, he never found out. When he was possessed by the Soldier on Halloween night, the medals he'd gotten from his uncle and from _Ethan'_s combined to given him memories of a combat specialist and a genius medical professional. Eventually, the memories receded for the most part. What he didn't know at the time was that the Surgeon's possession attracted the attention of ancient forces that marked him almost a decade and a half later for recruitment.

Now he was here about to become a history teacher for magical students who knew little to nothing about normal human life.

He really was a creature of chaos.

"If you can arrange it, then I will accept," Alexander said. "I can develop a syllabus in a few days and I already have several books and projects in mind, at no cost to the school," he added, "that your student will find interesting."

"Splendid, Mister Harris," beamed Albus. "I will get started with the paperwork and look forward to greeting you as a fellow instructor of our youth."

Alex's face was immobile but inside he was a little dismayed by the headmaster's cavalier attitude when it came to his student's education. Dumbledore had just given jobs to two people he barely knew and who had not so much as given him a hint that they were qualified to teach anything.

"Wait, wait," Ceraine said. It was clear that she had picked up on the same thing. "Aren't you curious about our actual qualifications? Afterall, we could have no qualifications whatsoever."

The headmaster's eyes twinkled. "The fact that I am in this place speaks volumes as to your qualifications. But, you're right, Miss Delane. It would be wise to have a paper trail."

"True," Alexander said. "Well, I have Ph.D. in neurological science and psychology from the University of California which is a non-magical school of higher learning." He turned to Ceraine. Yes, I did go to college when I was in my thirties, so sue me." He turned back to Dumbledore. "I also spent five years teaching and training young women at the Joyce Summers School for Gifted Women in Cleveland, Ohio. USA. As for my magical training. I have equivalents of advanced N.E.W. Ts and O.W.L., plus several degrees in specialized magical arts and sciences so your people can't complain there. But I was recruited and trained for six years at a very exclusive college located in eh, California. It's a small school not well known outside of certain areas. The owners of the school search and chose which students they want to attend. The University of Vishanti has only Twelve students at any given time and Ceraine and I were offered an invitation, ones we could hardly ignore. Both of us have our master's degrees in the magical arts and arcane sciences. We were also trained in various martial arts, which you would know as combat art forms to develop our bodies as well as our minds. Once we completed our studies, we chose to come here to help keep the forces I mentioned earlier from turning this world into a destroyed wasteland." Dumbledore's eyes shot up in surprise and he looked somewhat dubious. Alex looked a bit sheepish. "Yes, it sounds melodramatic I know, but it doesn't stop it from being true."

"Fascinating," Dumbledore said. "I've never heard of that school but then it is located in America. And this school provided you with all of this," and here he raised his hands indicating Alexander's and Ceraine's home, "for your mission?"

"The proper tools, Professor."

"Fascinating," he said once more. "Though I confess you've left me with more questions than answers.

"Maybe in time," Ceraine told him. "For now, you know more than anyone else."

"Except for Arthur," corrected Alexander.

Dumbledore frowned at that revelation for several moments. "Was it wise for you to tell him such things?" he asked. "Such information shouldn't be bandied about. You may have placed him and his family in a very difficult if not dangerous situation."

"He's my friend," Alex answered. "And my secrets are my own to reveal or not. I learned a long time ago, keeping too many secrets is just as dangerous as telling everything you know."

"But you have put him in danger."

"He's an adult with a family and wife. I trust him."

Dumbledore looked at the man and woman. They had no idea what dangers they had placed the Wesley family. Secrets were secret for reasons and that is why he kept them close to his vest, but he couldn't do much about that at this time. In the near future though, he resolved to train Alexander on the need to keep secrets secret. "I hope that your faith in him is well placed," was all he could say for the moment.

Alexander was firm in his response. "It is."

Next to him, Ceraine looked equally confident. Americans were so reckless, the old man thought not realizing that Ceraine wasn't American at all but something else entirely.

For now, goodbyes were said. The ancient wizard promised to get back to him in the following days. One of the pixies present him with a canister of Earl Grey tea, a blend he had never heard of before but intended to try as soon as he got back home.

Alexander retrieved his wand and made an intricate pattern with it. allowing the Professor to apparate away. The wards jumped back into place the moment he was gone. Dumbledore didn't need to know to how expansive Alex's so-called 'wandless' magic was. The man wasn't a fool and he'd figure it out soon enough. The Jury was still out as to whether the man considered he and Ceraine as allies or threats to his plans, whatever they really were.

"He doesn't understand the threat yet. He's so wrapped up in his He-who-Must-Not-Be-Named problem that he really doesn't understand what's happening." Ceraine sighed as one of the pixies placed a tall glass of iced tea on the table in front of her. She nodded her thanks. "These people are so confident in their power," Ceraine said after a moment.

"They have a reason to be as you know," Alexander responded. "And let's not forget that their form of magic is mature and very powerful. They've managed to suppress every other type of magic on this world. They're robbing memories from normal people who had any inkling of magic and they're increasing their actions." Again he shook his head. Such attitudes were going to be very hard to change, if at all. Self-regulation has stopped." Alexander looked thoughtful as he continued speaking. I know it resulted from fear but now it's simply arrogance. They don't have any other experience to reference. It's like the native Hawaiian wildlife being overrun by America's imported wildlife."

"It's going to come back to hurt them with a vengeance."

"Well, all we can do is continue to prepare. And getting into Hogwarts is a major step.'

"Well, it's time for me to start acting like a professor." He smiled what would the old gang would say?"

"Oh, stop it," Ceraine smirked. "You humans are so strange."

_**The Tear in the Fabric of Space and Time**_

In a distant reality, something happened that hadn't occurred in almost an eon without the direct knowledge and permission of the Dread Dormamu, absolute ruler of realm called by many the Dark Dimension. The domain comprised of several universes and dimensions subjected by a creature of pure magical energy called the Faltine, an entity whose mystical power almost defied description. His lust for power was all consuming and he longed to acquire the planet Earth and its universe, to be added to this domain. But even he was subjected to rules that he couldn't violate, and Earth's universe remain protected from him.

In other universes and in other realities, the Dread Lord had either absorbed Earth or he was continually frustrated by other Earthly powers that defendant the planet and in the process, their universes.

In this reality, those rules were in effect. The resident Powers-That-Be would not have lifted a finger to stop him from taking over this realities Earth because it wasn't part of their responsibility. Furthermore, they relied on those rules to keep him and such entities in check and away from Earth and them. If those rules were broken, those Powers wouldn't life a proverbial finger to stop it. They were beings of great power but with very little concept of responsibility. They were interested in balance not in protection.

And they were more frightened of those entities than they were of their boss. Therefore, things slipped by that shouldn't have.

This lack of dedication and spine was the reason why they were replaced with another set of Powers who understood the responsibilities that they were charged with. Those responsibilities included not only Alexander's Earth, but several others in the local multiverse.

Each of these universes were unique and had different attributes. In some universes the Gems of Power, known as the Infinity Gems, existed. In others such as the Earth Alexander had come to, they were never created. But this reality had its own Dark Dimension.

Dormamu kept a tight rein on all under his control with the exception of another of the Faltine, like himself. It was his sister, magical energy made flesh, Umar the Unrelenting. She hated him and craved his power for herself, but she wasn't strong enough to take it. Her lack of power didn't stop her from trying. The two of them were at constant war with each other, with Umar managing to secure a small portion of the vastness of the Dark Dimension for herself. It was during one of the constant world-ending battles that The Tear occurred.

The Tear itself, occurred three thousand years earlier, as time was defined in the Dark Dimension. From Alexander's point of view, the death of Glorificus, She of the Small Brain, had happened almost twenty-five years earlier. The Tear transcended space and time as it ripped through the dimensions of the multiverse.

In one universe, The Tear appeared three minutes after Glorificus' minion drew Dawn's blood during the ritual intended to allow the blond goddess Glory, a way to get her hell dimension home. In another world it appeared two thousand years in the future. Time and space underwent upheaval.

Dawn Summers, younger sister of Buffy Summers. was in reality a mystical key Her blood had the ability to open doors to any dimension through space and time. In her desire to get home, Glorificus was willing to rip apart reality. Never mind that it would have damaged her own dimension in the process.

Glory was never a long-term thinker.

In other realities affected by the multi-dimensional rupture it appeared in the distant future or manifested in the ancient past. There was no rhyme or reason as to when the tear would occur, only that it did-and on some worlds and realities, it did so more than once...

Three K'sjansx, almost shapeless, multi-tentacle entities with dozens of eyes, saw the tear and immediately plunged through it in order to escape the Dark Dimension. They were just a few of many very dark entities who called the Dark Dimension home before and after Dormamu conquered and subjugated their realities. The K'sjansx fought back and were relentless enemies of the Dark Lord's minions, but ultimately were no match for the mystic power thrown against them. They fought but now there were only a few of their species left, so the moment the portal appeared they sensed it. Three of them managed to make it through before the portal closed. For two hundred years they travel through the portal, having no idea where they were going, only that it went. During their travels, they starved and the strongest one fed upon other two. The survivor had no real connection to the others, other than the fact that they were the same species. It needed to survive and in order to survive it fed on their blood and their innate magic.

Without warning, the tear opened revealing a new world. The entity and other things spilled out from it, rapidly spreading away from it and each other to see what they could find in this new world.

The opening didn't go unnoticed. Dormamu saw and then screamed in frustration as the portal closed before he could access it. Turning, he vented his rage upon his sister, who happily returned the favor. Faltine fought Faltine and the portal was forgotten.

But there were others who had seen into the rupture as well, entities not meant to do so. One particular foul being saw a virgin planet ripe for exploitation and conquest. It was fast enough to send a probe of magic and began surveying it with an old cruel eye. was now aware of this planet and was coming for it when it was ready. The one that was here wouldn't be pleased if he violated his territory unannounced. Evil didn't like others taking over its territory.

The K'sjansx wasn't concerned about the others as long as they didn't interfere. There was food enough for all on this world. It was ecstatic.

Opening its bladders it exuded gas jets to propel itself through the sky. Its instincts had it heading east towards what was called Bulgaria. There was a town there, filled with beings of magic. They were unaware of its presence and it reveled in the carnage and feeding that it would indulge in when it got there.

The K'sjansx was a mystical vampiric entity, and its first targets would feed both its body and replenish is mystical energies reserves. And when it grew strong enough after it finished feeding in this small isolated village, then it would spawn and would spread, feeding on all the living mystical sources and then gorge itself on these beings filled with such wonderful smelling nutrient liquid circulating in their bodies. But first it needed to gorge itself, become strong again. The non-magical things in the dwellings close by would do just fine for now…


	8. Chapter 8

_**Record keeping:**__ I made a few corrections that Rob4133, Difdi, and lateVMlover pointed out. Hopefully I straightened them out So thank you for pointing them out to me. _

_One of the things about the Ceraine character is that she is a variation of human (an Elfen species) who has her own world and own California, US. Not to be confused with Xander's world. she is a modern version of the Elves found in the Lord of the Rings without eternal youth._

_You may notice that Umar is mentioned here and there. She has ahistory with Xander. He can's stand her and she utterly hates his. However as with Steven Strange, she has an…unhealthy attraction to him and can't help herself. In canon this was one of her problems that produced Clea. _

_Also Dumbledore here is manipulative but not evil or backstabbing. Here is essentially good but really likes to have his own way and does have a control problem. He is fighting for his people in the only way he knows how. And let's face it, us old people have a hard time changing our ways._

_At the University, there are 12 students selected for training. The school disappears into another dimension and when it returns, 12 more are selected from different worlds and dimensions. Lots of training and lots of work. And they are very selective at whom they choose. _

_To everyone, thank you for the reviews and I will post when I get the chance._

_AlbertG_

_**Chapter Eight**_

_**Hogwarts**_

True to his word, Albus Dumbledore secure two new professors of Muggle studies for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A few inquiries here and a couple of suggestions there, not to mention throwing around a small bit of his influence and everything fell into place. Not that he expected any real problems. Some in the Ministry were a bit hesitant at having Americans teaching at Hogwarts as it went against traditions. Several other of the more conservative members had voiced their concerns, suggesting that many of the parents wouldn't want their children expose to 'Colonial' influence. He sighed a bit because he understood their concerns, however he was able to convince them that the influence would be a minor inconvenience at best and that it would be beneficial for the children to experience a bit of culture from the other side of the Pond.

It was an immense help that many of the students already knew who they were since they had visited and shopped at the American store in Diagon Alley at one time or another, either in the summer or on weekend outings during the school semester. The place was very popular, especially as the store wasn't dangerous. The students and their parents could actually touch stuff and not get pinched, slapped, poisoned, or screamed at – as long as they didn't break it. Naturally things could be magically repaired, but that wasn't the point. Dumbledore found it instructive seeing how both of the shop owners gently guided the younger children in the ways of respecting others property. Just because magic could be used to repair broken objects didn't mean that the property wasn't to be respected.

The American electric lights were popular with the younger people, although the elders somewhat distained them as being too muggle-like. Dumbledore understood their fears of the unknown quite well. They couldn't understand how those things worked without magic. It was a difficult concept, once again showed him how little his people had progressed and much they had to learn. Not everything muggle needed to be discarded as useless. It was another example why he thought that the Americans would be a positive influence on the students in the long run.

Several pureblood families distained the Americans and usually avoided the store or they would sneak in when they believed they weren't seen and then quietly depart as they could. Several members of the Ministry of Magic had visited openly, subtly checking to see if everything was in order. Later, they'd come back to taste the foreign food or buy some knickknack that they found of interest. Minister Fudge came in a couple of times along with his wife and seemed to enjoy the 'colonial ambiance' as he called it. Therefore, the Americans were fairly well known to many in the magical community. All in all, their addition to the faculty hadn't cause much of a stir that it could have, much to the Headmaster's relief.

* * *

Alexander Lavelle Harris drank in the ancients magic that permeated the entirety of the school grounds. The was magic everywhere, powerful and ancient. Ceraine stood next to him, following his example, not moving, simply examining the ambience.

"The magic is everywhere," Ceraine whispered. She was familiar with this style of magic native to this world, but it was still a wonder to experience it literally underneath her feet. It felt wonderfully strange comparing it to the magic of her Earth, her California, which felt different from Alex's Earth. Some of the students passing by saw the glow that surrounded her almost glowing. It was a somewhat unusual sight, but they were used to the unusual and simply walked past without comment. This was Hogwarts after all. "It's so strong but so unlike home." She whispered. "So alien."

"This world is alien for both us," he whispered back, "although after all of this time, I am getting used to the feel of it." Staring at the huge castle for a moment he smiled wispily and continued talking to his friend. "I know we've been saying this since we got here. I still haven't gotten used to the magic being so widespread, yet. This castle is almost alive and rather beautiful."

He was correct in his assertions of the castle. "Monolithic, but beautiful." She smirked at him. "It's very old-school."

"Cute, Ceraine."

The magic users in this country and around the world were too dependent in their abilities to keep the non-magical people ignorant of the magical world. On this world, the magic users went out of their way to make sure that the non-magical people here didn't have a clue and they had done their job too well.

Although the sciences and technologies were fairly close to Alexander's world from, in his opinion, it was a little behind. He was forty-two and to him it was 2022. From everything he observed, this world wouldn't reach the same technological equivalency until 2041and it was due to Oblivator teams using their power without restriction on non-magicals. Science was progressing nicely here however oblivations were stifling creativity with their unrestrictive actions. The magicals fear of being discovered had turned from a defensive measure into a preemptive arrogance. Once, it was done out of fear. Now, they did it because they could. It gave them a feeling of superiority and the consequences were being felt across the world.

Not only were they stifling knowledge with the normal, but they had extended their activities all other magical branches. Other magical styles were frowned upon and extinguished with the same level of contempt as specialized Oblivator hit teams scoured the world destroying the memories and artifacts not in the established wizarding community. In their zeal to keep their secret society from being discovered, they were ripping everything apart.

"These people have a certain arrogance here," Xander muttered loud enough for Ceraine to hear. "If they continue to keep this up, religion will be next. The Bible mentions miracles throughout. I can see them trying to remove all hints of miracle acts or 'magic' from their perspective and feeling an obligation to remove it. This attitude may trigger the very war they're so frightened of."

Ceraine thought about that for a few moments, slowly nodding her head in agreement. "Yes, Ceraine added. "They're almost as bad as your people," she said as her hand cupped her chin, deep in thought. "But yes, I can see them over doing it. Most people tend to do that when they possess power enough to do so." Xander looked away, somewhat embarrassed. "What happens if they decide to try to limit advanced science because it will have the appearance of magic to their eyes?" she grimaced. "It will be seen as a threat to their magic. They'll try to suppress it."

"Maybe. Probably," he answered after a few moments. "This world could fall into a new dark age or a world war."

"Willow would hate it here and would not have restrained herself in making her displeasure plain." Ceraine said. "She probably would start a war all on her own and gotten herself and other killed. That attitude is another one of the reasons why she wasn't accepted into the school."

There was a quietness to him, but it only lasted a second. I love her, but her soul and her desire for power is dark gray at best."

Ceraine rolled her eyes at his comment. "Tell the truth," admonished the woman. "Her aura was streaked more with black, not gray. She couldn't stand the fact that you were chosen and not her. She wanted this knowledge, the power. You know that was the reason you had to leave. She kept trying to challenge you and get you to teach her things you weren't allow to. Sooner or later, you two would have come to blows. You almost did, remember?"

Xander really didn't want to talk about that day. He was loathed to think about it, but his companion was right and shew wasn't letting it go. He was older now, and not easily willing to hide from the truth about his once best friend. "She felt the need to prove herself against me. I know," he admitted. "I was picked, and she wasn't. That rejection grated on her for years. We all know that it was better for me to go rather than have to stop her." he told her. "She would have confronted the Vishanti. They would have judged her and banished her, after stripping her of her power." He _hated_ talking about that. "With me gone, at least she has a chance."

"With her attitude? Ceraine questioned. "It's good that you're gone. Sooner or later she will confront them just to prove that she can. It's who she is," the woman said as they began walking towards the huge doors that would allow them entrance to the castle.

There was no love lost between the two women and for basically the same reasons as she envied Alex. The women had gotten into a little magical spat. Willow didn't win but the battle served only to increase her envy and jealousy. Celine was fully aware of the woman's dark streak. Beneath that 'cookie-making because I'm really a good girl' exterior was a soul at the edge of blackness. When everything went her way, she was all sweetness and goodness. When it wasn't, her white hair was streaked with black.

"The school is gone back to its native dimension for a while, and we both know she's still looking for it. I hope she can curtail her ambitions. If she pushes it, they will kill her. There's too much at stake."

"I know. I hope she listens… Maybe Buffy can finally get through to her. Maybe." Helplessly, he wrung his hands in disgust. "We're too old to be playing games like this."

"Her choice. Her destiny," the woman answered. "Then let's focus on our job here."

The man straightened up. And wished his friend the very best. "Yep, let's."

With a sweeping motion he gestured for her to enter first through the huge wooden doors that allowed entry to the castle and what a place it was! There were ghosts everywhere doing whatever ghosts trapped in a magic castle-school did. But there was aura of gloom that both of them felt.

It was still all over the magical newspapers. The attack on the Quidditch World Cup game had placed a damper on most of magical London. Many of the children in the school were nervous about the affair and it showed, indeed around the world. Alexander and Ceraine weren't overly concerned about another attack so soon. it was an act of terror. Most terrorists liked to allow things to fester a bit before crawling out from the cracks again." It was for the best for the two of them as both were still recuperating from their battle with Hysidrax Bringer of Plagues.

The ancient foul entity had entered through the rupture Glory had created years ago.

This was the third battle they had where the extra dimensional beings were either killed or forced back to whatever hell dimension they had oozed out of. Glory was years dead and gone from Xander's perspective, however the rip was through space _and_ time throughout most dimension. In some places the ruptures were just occurring or had occurred thousands and millions of years ago or would occur in the far distant future. The Hysidrax entered the world a few days ago, wiping out an entire town of three thousand before the two warriors were able to confront and deal with blob-like creature. The entity was a plague demon whose essence killed everything near it. without the right protection, nothing was spared, not plants, nor animals, or even viruses. Ceraine, who confronted the entity first used every spell at her disposal to contain the eldritch creature while Alexander fought to neutralize it destructive power. Sealing it in a mystic trap, both attacked it, binding and then killing the creature before sending the remains where it came from, in this case the Purple Dimension.

The magical community was unaware of the battle, and the few in the magical community that did sense hadn't bothered to follow up as it might have been Death Eater activity and didn't want to get involved.

There were others that _had_ noticed but tut their investigations came up with nothing concrete to indicate what happened with certainty. They were aware that a battle had occurred. There were magical traces, unidentified ones at that. The organization added this incident.

However the battle _hadn't_ gone unnoticed by the Russian government. The satellites hadn't captured the battle _but_ did show the results of the plague entity's effect on Soviet soil. The Russians _had_ recorded the frantic almost incoherent calls for help from the local military, the government and civilian authorities. The newly developed satellites placed in orbit did image the thousands of dead and rotting bodies, both animals and people. They did record the skeletons and dead trees and dying farmlands. The officials were badly frightened and rightly so.

The leaders reacted in the only manner they knew of. Taking no chances they acted swiftly. Two nuclear devices were detonated in the heart of the small city in hopes of keeping the unknown, very aggressive, and deadly plague from spreading. They gave no warning to the survivors or anyone within a thirty-mile radius of the blast.

Next year, the Russian maps would be updated, and the name of the city erased without explanation. The authorities there weren't planning to offer any explanations to anyone about the going's on in their country. Those explanations had no real answers, Other countries and their own people would demand what the leadership could not give. The authorities felt no being embarrassed by such things.

Alexander and Ceraine vanished long before the twin nukes vaporized the evidence. They spend two days day physically and mystically decontaminating themselves before they dared to leave the sanctum. At the time, the world cup terrorist action didn't really register on their radar. And the magical community never noticed the dimensional threat.

* * *

"How good that you've come today!" beamed Albus Dumbledore who greeted the two new, albeit part-time teachers of Muggle Studies. "The books are in the bookstore and I've received your syllabus. Most interesting reading by the way. I may drop into your classes from time to time for my own enlightenment. Our students registered in the class already have their books as you supplied them free of charge. Many of them were most grateful."

"Good," Ceraine beamed. "I'm pleased to hear that." Of course the bookstores were unhappy about that as free books cut into their profits." Too bad, she thought. "We're eager to begin."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Once more he stared at the beautiful young woman longer than he should have, and not for the first time he wondered what kind of human she was. He knew she was from another Earth different from Mister Harris's world. Fascinating! But what she had exactly eluded him. It was as if she represented another species of humanity altogether and now that he was aware of that he could feel the unusual magic coming from her.

The way she moved, her body language and the way she spoke made her seem as if she was outside of humanity. She had said as such, but he hadn't fully believed. Looking at her now from inside his school, he did believe. Most of the men who saw her were captivated her beauty. Many of the women, especially the married _ones, hated her on sight._

_By Merlin, he was almost attracted to her himself! _

_Astounding! _

He was intensely curious, but those answers would come another day. The 'Americans' were an enigma he was interested in solving. He hated not knowing, but he was also patient. "I am sorry that the atmosphere here isn't as jovial as it could be. Nasty business, the world games."

Alexander nodded in sympathy. "I was sorry to hear about that. We didn't attend as we were somewhat busy."

"Oh?"

Alex answered his unspoken question. "We had to terminate a pest."

A moment later, Dumbledore's eyes went wide with understanding. "I trust everything turned out to everyone's mutual satisfactorily?" he inquired.

"We stopped it before it got too far out of hand," was all that Ceraine said. They would each deal with their own thoughts as to the consequences of their actions-and that of Russia and the people that were lost. Dumbledore had enough on his plate right now. He didn't need to know about the numbers of innocent people who just died. He had his own problem.

The headmaster knew he wasn't going to get any details now and if the threat was contained, then all was right with the world, literally. "Splendid! Now, as it is breakfast time and the students are in attendance, it is a good time to officially introduce you to the student body and the Staff. It should be a pleasant experience as many already know you." He turned and they followed him towards the staff table.

Alexander made an imposing figure with his black pants and white ruffled shirt showing off his very muscular figure. But he was still Xander and he had offset his ensemble with a Hawaiian designed black and red vest that complemented his long flowing red with blue trimmed cape. The cape seemed to have a mind of its own and enjoyed the attention of the crowd as it bellowed and swerved back and forth with style. It was a gift from his teachers in recognition of another Master of the Mystic Arts. Xander thought of it as a graduation gift.

Ceraine, like Alexander chose not to wear the traditional teacher's robes. She wore her long blue dress with a matching cape trimmed in red, a compliment to the one that Xander wore. Another gift. Together, both of them made a striking couple. The clothing was unusual to many, but they assumed it was just an eccentric American style and really didn't think much of it. Many also assumed that they were a couple, although they weren't. Ceraine' sister had Alex's eye.

Nevertheless, they made quite a pair walking towards the table and may of the students were cheering the new teachers. The Slytherin house was less vocal, following young Draco Malfoy's example, but not as much as one would have expected as many of them had visited the Americans' store and knew the incoming instructors

As was tradition the professors stood and welcomed the newcomers. Professor Severus Snape stood but merely nodded at Alexander and Ceraine. His dealings with the Americans was cordial but cool, which in his case was a ringing endorsement. The man had come to Alexander's store several times twice in the two years that the store was in operation.

The first time he came, Ceraine watched with amusement as the man could barely force himself to enter into the store. The man had a distain of everything. He seemed to revel in it, but Certain could see his aura. It was…complex, but far less black than one would have thought. But nevertheless, she was as wary of him as he of her.

She thought the man's arrogance was stunning. She could feel Snape forcing himself to enter the store and the only reason why he came was because he required a special ingredient for a potion he planned to prepare. Slug & Jiggers Apothecary couldn't get what he required for a week. Alexander's store claimed to be able to get anything within twenty-four hours guaranteed. He of course had his doubts, but he lowered himself to test the store's claims.

Celine was an DaElvis Lord, royalty, of the House of Mayran. she and her family were surrounded by arrogant nobles and officials. Snape's attitude meant nothing to her. Instead of meeting him with equal distain (something he expected in return), she responded with gentleness without appearing weak. It had thrown him off balance for a moment. She was an aura empath and she read him like a book. She was respectful but didn't cottle him as he all but demanded a specialty order. He honestly didn't expect to get the iris of a two-month old Hydrocynus Goliath packed in immature mandrake oil. Smiling, she made him pay up front and escorted him out of the store. From his fluctuating aura, she knew that aggravated him because she knew he was interested in the 'Everything You Could Ever Possibly Want for magical potions and ingredients' catalogue and she kicked him out before he could glance at it in detail. Male egos were such a fragile thing and so easily to manipulate.

The next day he had his iris packed in mandrake oil. He almost snatched the package from her, but… not quite and inspected the contents. Satisfied, he nodded and left without a word. A month later, he returned and met Alexander and asked to browse the catalogue. When Ceraine found out, she laughed the night away.

Snape returned a few more times and was almost civil, to her non-surprise.

* * *

Following Dumbledore Alexander and Ceraine were ushered to their seats. They didn't get far. Professor Sybill Trelawney, watching them closely, abruptly froze while staring at the two of them in a state of shock.

In turn, Alexander stared back as his magic flared within him.

The spindly woman's mouth was opened. Alex's first thought was that poor woman needed a much better pair of glasses rather than the binoculars she was currently wearing. If she had vision difficulties that their magical medicines couldn't correct, then maybe he could do something about it. The Vishanti had replaced his gouged-out eye, and he had the same magics.

His instructors had a thing for eyes.

Sybill's mind was not aware of his thoughts. In fact, she wasn't aware that he was staring at her at all. The power of the seers was in her blood and it now sang to her. She was the great-great granddaughter of Cassandra Trelawney, a renowned seer of great power and if Sybill's ability was less focused, her gift was just as strong.

_**The One Who Sees, the Slayers' consort, savior of his world, defender against the mouth of hell. A white knight of the Vishanti.**_

_**The Elven Princess, the Inheritor of the kingdom, mystic warrior now second to none. The White Queen of the Carastanbza Mayran, **_

_**the Unrelenting Umar's bane.**_

_**Masters of the Arts are they, not yet Supreme but soon to be. Two chosen of many. Theirs is the power this world knows not.**_

_**Restoration is their purpose. Resistance is their mantle. The first of restorers of this world.**_

_**The Dark Lord knows not what he does, and the world will suffer for it.**_

_**Deals will be made, wars will follow. **_

_**That which was stolen will be returned to our sorrow and to our glory.**_

_**The Boy Who Lived, the prophecy changed, the prophecy fulfilled.**_

_**New is his calling, the Snake follows his lead. Darkness will fear them. **_

_**A Prince of demons will seduce the Fool and bind his spirit to the woe of this world. The Fool allows him entry for power he knows not. **_

_**Heed the tide to wars and War. Open your minds. Heed the tidings of war against the dark.**_

* * *

Sybill gotten as far as _**'the Slayer's consort'**_ before Alexander discretely generated a silencing spell. Only he and Ceraine heard her words. To the others, they only saw the professor mouthing words. Many of her students and peers assumed she was spouting nonsense. However, there was one who thought differently.

Dumbledore eyes twinkled brightly as he tried to hear her pronouncement, but to no avail. He immediately recognized the signs of a silencing spell but was unable to counter it as the spell was different from than any he'd seen before. the mage would have had to actively counter it with the Elder wand but that would have drawn too much attention to himself and thus to Sybill. It was too late now, and he silently berated himself. A simple lip-reading spell placed on himself would have done just as well if not better. He'd be better prepared next time. Her words however had to be important and he needed to know what she said and resolved to speak to the two Americans about it later.

* * *

Professor Trelawney came out of her trance moments later, completely unaware of what she had prophesized. Ceraine decided to speak to her later in private. If she was animable to it, Ceraine would teach her how to develop some control of her ability and at the least, be able to remember her words without zoning out. Xander was staring at the woman with his traditional bland, almost goofy smile. Ceraine wasn't fooled one bit. The prophecy breaker had just gotten pulled into another prophecy and he wasn't happy.

_Oh, oh._

Casting a discrete, wandless spell with her fingers she established a mental connection with her male counterpart. _"Stop it,"_ she growled.

"_Stop what"_ he responded mentally. _"I haven't done anything."_

"_I know you. Stop being mean to her. It isn't her fault. Harry Potter has just become a part of our lives. Deal with it."_

"_I am not being mean to her,"_ he mentally protested.

"_You're the last person who should be critiquing her style of dress. These people have their own culture. And don't try to deflect. You heard it as well as I did."_

"_I've been around too many women, too much of my time. I hate seeing her looking so frumpy when there's no need for it. She's so Nineteen century. All of them, they're not even trying."_

"_Why should they? Their own government isn't about to change the way things are. That's our job and it will take time, if at all. We need to focus on our own projects. The word's been sung. We deal with it and the boy and the snake whoever that is."_

"Y_ou're right. Change, in small steps. _

"Small steps." She smiled openly at him. "And you… you have had too many women friends. You're thinking too much like us. Leave the woman alone or help her. She's actually somewhat cute in her own way."

"_Point taken. I won't accuse others if I'm doing the same things. You know I hate prophecies. We weren't supposed to get involved with their little dispute yet, but this prophecy…" he tried not to grit his teeth. "So, I'm fated to break another prophecy? My lot in life sucks."_

"_If we can complete our business, then we won't have to get involved with theirs."_

Alex almost laughed at her. "Ceraine. do you have a bridge to sell me? Let's go take a look at the classrooms after breakfast."

"Are you okay?" asked a concerned Dumbledore.

Alex succeeded in not smiling at the clearly frustrated Headmaster. "Everything is okay," answered Alex.

Dumbledore smiled back in false humor. He hated not knowing…


	9. Chapter 9

_**A bit of Recordkeeping here:**_

**OrdinaryGuy:** _I can't believe it's been 17 year! Congrats and I still remember the email I sent just as you two married. I am glad that she is doing better. Both of you have gone through a lot and I wish you the very best. Now, to business. In this story. You've noticed that Harry is not one of the main characters as of yet. Xander and Ceraine have been in magical Britain for a few years, establishing their identities, and dealing with minor crap that is slowly increase,etc. so far everything that has happened to Harry has happened. Right now, we are at the beginning of the Tri-wizard tournament. Starting with this chapter things, are about to change. You haven't missed anything. Now of course the reactionaries are going to have a fit once they see what's happening and realize the threat of this muggle studies class. The ministry won't like it but this is bait for something much more sinister. The death-eaters aren't the only threats. There are those in the Ministry who are perfect recruits..._

_Dumbledore is not bad in this fic. He is his usual self but will have a few moments of clarity slapping him in the face in the near future. Meanwhile the magicals are about to experience a shock that will turn their world upside down as their kids start talking about that muggle studies, er, I mean no-mage Studies class and the two Americans. _

_Lady in Pink, beware the Harris… _

_Had tyo make a name correction. How I got Ivanova instead of Minerva...wrong story. Sorry about that._

_**Master Xander**_

_**Chapter Nine**_

Albus Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he began introductions of the staff. Many of his colleagues knew the two Americans and had visited their store, "but formalities must always be observed," he announced while smiling broadly. "Allow me to _officially_ introduce you to the staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'll start with Madam Poppy Pomfrey, chief magical healer of the medical wing. She is responsible for the care and treatment of our students here at Hogwarts. I believe you've met before?"

"Yes, we have," the healer said as she smiled graciously at the two new professors. "It is good to see you again and I bid you welcome." She nodded her head in respect and excitement. With them being here, especially the Delane woman, she could finally have some quality time to discuss some of the unusually healing arts that the American possessed. There were several unique healing spells that didn't require the usual potions Pomfrey knew of. She was most interested.

"And of course, you've met Madam Sprout, our plant specialists and local biology instructor."

"It is good to see you outside of the store, professors." She was also smiling. In fact, she was very excited having them as additions to the school. "Those west African mandrake seeds are most delightful. I've been studying them carefully and although they are very similar to the plants I'm used to working with, these have some very unique properties which I find utterly fascinating. I am considering writing a paper on these plants. I wonder if it's possible that you could order me a few more seeds?"

"Of course, professor," Alexander responded as he nodded his head at her. "In fact, I have access to a few mandrake species which you probably never seen before or believed to be extinct, like the Samoan brown leaf screamer."

The woman looked at him in surprise. "How are you finding these plants?" she asked. "Some of the best herpetologists I know didn't believe me when I told of the seeds you've given me access to. They were astonished when I showed them."

"Alex ex smiled. "My procurers are very good at tracking down things that I request." Which was absolutely true, even if the items were located in other dimensions. There was no need to tell her that, though.

Ceraine took a moment to interrupt. he smiled back. "Expect a lot more business in the near future, Mister Harris."

Professor Delane took a moment to interrupt. "I had the precautions you will need to know to safely grow this particular species of plant typed for you. You will want to read about before you plant the seeds. They are very fussy. I also have some detailed information on those particular plants which may come in very useful. Their characteristics are little more…expressive than the mandrakes that you're used to."

"Indeed," she answered, as her eyes looked lit up in excitement. "I'll keep that in mind. So many varieties! I'm looking for to seeing what you have available.

Mandrake plants were so useful, yet so potentially. Dumbledore reminded himself to speak to the professor to make sure to keep the plants secluded and maintain all precautions until she had a solid handle on those exotic and deadly plants. He wanted his students and his professor to be safe.

Dumbledore smiled at the positive response the two newcomers were receiving from the staff. "And this is Minerva McGonagall, our Transfiguration teacher and head of the House of Gryffindor."

The stern-looking woman nodded politely to the both of them.

Alexander had to smile at the woman. She was the very personification of what a teacher of children should look like, minus the robes and weird hat. "I've heard so much about 'the Americans', from some of our students, that I feel that I almost know you. The Wesley twins are very enamored with you." She frowned slightly as she looked at the two new professors. "I'm not sure if that's a good recommendation or bad one."

The headmaster cleared his throat. "Well… This is Professor Severus Snape whom you also know."

"Mister Harris, Miss Delane."

"Professor," said both of them at the same time.

Those were his only words. Snape stared sullenly at the two people. Then he looked away, ignoring them. The other professors seated at the table hid their smiles. That was one of the warmest greetings they'd seen from him. But Ceraine merely glanced at him. The woman wasn't having it.

"I trust that you found the latest delivery satisfactory?" she asked. In response, the potions master raised one of his eyebrows and glared at her indifferently. "It is acceptable," he managed to grumble out.

She merely smiled at him and raised one of her own, surprising him. She alone noticed he didn't seem as hostile as his demeanor implied.

After Dumbledore finished his introductions to the others seated, he raised his wand, and a globe slightly. His voice was magnified throughout the great hallway. Everyone stopped and looked at him including the numerous ghosts and the figures in the paintings on the walls. "Ladies and gentlemen, my fellow professors, students and ghost of Hogwarts. I present to you our two newest professors of No-mage Studies, Professor Alexander Harris and Professor Ceraine Delane!"

There was a thunderous applause that was heard throughout the school.

"That is just the first of many surprises coming to our schools this year. I will have a very special announcement that will affect the entirety of the school. I expect every student to be present at that momentous occasion, I expect you all to be on your very best behavior. I will give you more details. But for now, let the celebration continue!"

He raised his wand and a magnificent display of fireworks erupted throughout the great hall's ceiling.

The children again erupted in applause.

Xander couldn't help the somewhat goofy look that appeared on his face at their response. These kids were so proud about their school and it made him wish that good old Sunnydale High could have had a tenth of that school spirit. Of course, the school spirit might have eaten them…

* * *

A couple of hours later, both of the professors of no-mage Studies were sitting in the classroom where they would teach many of the second, third, and fourth-year students about the intricacies and complexities about the lives of no-mages and how they got along in the world.

The classroom itself was a typical room found in any normal run-of-the-mill castle. There were seats and desk for about twenty-five students. Magical candles gave light to the rather gloomy room. There were ink bottles and extra quills lying around. The black board, although magical along with the chalk, looked typical for a school. No windows, of course.

"By the Vishanti's crusty old eyeballs, this is the most depressing, unimaginative classroom I've ever seen!

"Don't let that know-it-all hear you say that again. You know how he hates that phrase."

"He hated Twinkies, too, but he got used to them," Alex smirked. "And I know he's started eating them regularly. I also know he's pilfering them from other dimensions because they aren't available in mine anymore."

"Yes, they are," admonished Ceraine.

"But they're rare and hard to find."

"Your funeral. You know how he–they are."

"True." Alex looked at his counterpart. "You know that they had a ghost from God knows what century, teaching this class?" She nodded. "This room is a subliminal testament to the summation of their ideas of what normal non-magical life is like," he said shaking his head. "I have some ideas."

"As do I," Ceraine commented. This color for example simply will not do. I'm thinking peach."

"Let's go for it. I'll start with the lightning and electrical transmitting wards when you're done."

Ceraine Delane, a Master of the Mystic Arts spread her fingers and gather power. She began her incantations slowly in her native language. Power began to spread and the room expanded to three times its size. The dark green paint on the walls changed to a bright color peach. Several illusional windows appeared along the sides of walls giving the impression that they weren't deep in the castle lower levels. Those windows were connected to the real windows located in the castle, giving a real-time visual of what was happening outside of the school.

The dull floors changed into beautiful wood oak planks. Five minutes later, she stopped her incantations and lowered her arms. Her cape surrounded her like a protected blanket. "Your turn."

Alexander Lavelle Harris, a Master of the Mystic Arts, began his own incantations. His hands and fingers weaved in intricate movement as power left him and filled the room with a multitude of colored lights, an indication of the power being used through him. Wards appeared on the walls allowing access to electricity from his home, bypassing the ancient wards in place at Hogwarts. Twelve sets of electrical sockets materialized along the lower sections of the walls. Overhead lighting appeared from beautiful crystalline chandeliers of gold and silver. Three of them were sufficient to light the entire room. Light switches appeared on the walls. His carpenter's critical eyes made a couple of alterations as the wards and systems set in place. While he was doing that, Ceraine took from her dimensional briefcase two fifty-five-inch ultra-high-resolution televisions and floated them to the front of the room.

Alexander opened his own briefcase and pulled out several computers, a host of tablets, state-of-the-art digital and audio players and recorders and magically placed them strategically around the room and on the desks. "I love dimensionally transcendental physics and magic. "The things you can store in your pockets these days," he said.

This technique was known to the local wand users but his power source came from outside and not inside the magical core. Using outside energies allowed for more efficient use of the technique. It made transfiguration easier, as well. Ceraine meanwhile, carefully checked to make sure that the magically-transmitted electrical power was being channeled properly.

The televisions, hand-held tablets and computers were not from this Earth. Alex and Ceraine brought them from more than thirty years in the future of another world. Those electrically powered instruments were modified to work in magical Britain and against the wards put up by the Ministry to cripple so-called muggle devices from operating. The wards placed on them didn't counter the wards as much as bypassed them.

The ant-lightning protection spells performed, to protect from lightning strikes had the added effect of countering electrical devices from operating. Those in the Ministry realized the problem and instead of modifying the wards and spells, they added to to the problem to further separate the no-mages, from the magical community. Those devices wouldn't, work giving further credence to the Ministry's claims that no-mags and magicals were incompatible, further separating the two societies.

"Magic infused light bulbs not only guaranteed to work in magical environments but also eco-friendly," smirked Alexander.

The desks were modernized, each with their own computer access inputs and ports. There was a book placed on the desks, 'Typing for Wizards'. It laid out a basic but intensive one-week course for basic typing and tablet use. Plus, there were updated Webster's Dictionaries which were going to be put to very good use. There were ink pens and pencils and notebook paper for each student located on each desk. Parchment was not going to be used in this class if Alex could help it. Naturally, this wasn't going to go over well with the reactionaries, but by the time they realized what was happening, it would be too late and the young ones contaminated with no-mag knowledge.

Alex loved the fact that the parents appreciated the savings that they were getting since they didn't have to pay for the extra books being used in the class. Books were expensive and most of the parents weren't rich. Saving small amounts of needed money here and there was a blessing to a lot of them.

To the right and front of the class room, there a large globe of the planet Earth off on a side desk. In the back of the room there were advanced video recording devices as well as video and audio players which dotted the room. Those were things that students from the no-mag would _almost_ recognize, but that the magical community would not know about and not understand.

Alex turned to Ceraine and looked her dead in her eyes. He began breathing ominously. "My plans for mass contamination is now complete," Xander said as the magical influence in the room dissipated. "They are the students, but I am the master," he announced to the room as he wiggled his eyebrows at Ceraine.

Ceraine just looked back at him. "You are so weird sometimes," she muttered not understanding the cultural reference unique to his Earth. "Let's start."

"As you wish, my dear," He responded in a very low voice as he continued the strange breathing for a few moments.

Both of them stood up, their capes fluttered in a non-existent wind. And each of them lifted a few feet above the floor. All traces of amusement disappeared as they began to call on dimensional energies derived from beings most people could barely conceive of. Other-worldly filled the room as each weaved their spells, creating a barrier and sanctuary within the room. Their power blended with the natural magics of Hogwarts creating a place not unlike the Room of Requirement. However, this room could be used as a portal and conduit to other places, other dimensions. Protective barriers sprung into place, invisible to wizards unless called upon by the two masters. This room had become a fortress within a fortress.

* * *

In his office, Dumbledore felt a tingling of power, but the next instant, it was gone. He dismissed it, knowing, and rightly so, that the two new professors had asked to make a couple of changes to the Muggle, err, No-mag Studies classroom. He would look into it later to see what they had done, mostly minor changes he assumed. If something serious or dangerous was occurring then the castle would have notified him, especially since he had advanced extra precautions. The other schools were coming soon for an extended stay and he needed to make sure nothing went wrong.

Unnoticed by him, his perched phoenix cocked his head in curiosity.

_**The next morning**_

_**First day of the class:**_

Both teachers were standing at the front on either side of the main desk smiling at the shocked students who were slowly filing into the strange classroom. The students who lived in the non-magical world had some ideas of what they were seeing, but even they were lost as they examined the strange computers and strange thin rectangular boxes with glass covers. When a curious student asked what those things were, Professor Harris said that they were microcomputers called tablets. That answer didn't help much and left more questions for the student to ponder. The absolutely huge televisions, if that was what they were, were placed prominent at the front of the classroom dominating everything else in the room.

There was no way that a television could be that huge and so impossibly thin! TVs were large bulky things, not thin like this!

Quickly, the students claimed desks for themselves. Many pure-blood had never seen lightbulbs before this close-up. Some of the students who had visited Alexander's shop at Diagon Alley _had _seen them so they had an idea what they actually were since they had asked when they had visited the store. However, most of the purebred students hadn't come to the store so this was the first time seeing electric lights and they stared at them in amazement.

* * *

Hermione Granger looked around the classroom in awe and frustration. She sat down in a daze and stare at Harry Potter who took a seat next to her. He was also shocked and confused by what he was seeing.

"This isn't right," the bushy-haired girl said hostilely. "None of this should be working. How can we have a class with things that won't work. It will be most distracting!"

Harry and Ron looked unsure. "Some of this looks familiar. I've seen these at their store. Maybe they are props to show us what they look like?"

"If they are real, then they're no doubt magical," she answered. "Yes, I think that's a magical TV, most likely from the American magical society. I've heard that they like inventing things. These devices must be magical."

"But what are they? whispered Ron. Some of the unknown 'things' he'd seen at Mister Harris's store, but the rest were completely alien. It was a fact that some of the things he was looking at were mentioned by his father and mother when they visited Professor Alexander's home, but he never really paid attention, plus he was in school and that occupied his attention and time.

The looks of wonder continued as the students continued to file into the room for their first day in class for no-mage studies.

The Slytherin students appeared to be the most suspicious and cautious, taking their places in back of the classroom as if some of them were prepared to make a fast getaway if the need arose. The other students of the various houses didn't seem as uncomfortable of the strange Americans as were some of the Slytherins. Others stared at the strange room with wide and calculating eyes.

"Those aren't normal computers, "Hermione grumbled in confusion and fascination. "My father had one in his dental office. His associates pooled together and bought one. It's called an IBM 386 business computer. It has windows 3.1, four megabytes of memory, a twenty-megabyte hard drive, a twelve-inch color screen with 516 colors and Microsoft Office 92." She stopped at the looks of total confusion shown her by her friends. "Trust me," she said. It was a powerful thinking machine. It costed my father's group thirteen thousand American dollars and it was on sale! Oh, and they also bought a high-quality dot-matrix printer!" she added. "But these computers here and the screen! Our professors must be truly rich if they could afford these computers. The screen must be at least 23-incheds! Probably color, too," she added. "They have to be magical."

"But what do they do" asked Ron. And Harry listened closely because he also wanted to know.

"Lots of things," she whispered. "Look! It even has a glowing mouse!"

That's a mouse" asked Ron. "Is it alive?"

"It's not that kind of mouse, Ron." She growled. "It is a mechanical mouse."

"Doesn't look like one," Harry muttered. "And you're right, Hermione. Those Tele, if that's what they are really look strange, not like the one my uncles has."

Herm huffed. "They are magical. It is beyond impossible for non-magical people to make something like that. It's thinner than four of my father's business cards stacked together."

"What's _LG 8K_ mean?" asked Ron."

"Obviously, it's the name of the American magical company that made it. Oh Ron, use your brain sometimes."

Ron shook his head. "I bet my father knows all about this stuff," he said not knowing how right he was.

* * *

Alexander Harris and Ceraine Delane, Professors of No-mag Studies introduced themselves to those who had yet to officially meet with them.

"Hello students and welcome to the first day of the No-mag Studies class. My name is Professor Alexander Harris."

"And my name is professor Ceraine Delane and together we will introduce you to the fascinating world of no-mag people that live across this planet. The purpose of this class will give you a feel of what it is like to exist in the no-mag world. Magic is a wonderful thing. It allows us to do just about anything that we can imagine. But what happens if we don't have it? What happens if we lose it? What happens to our lives if we never had it in the first place?"

"This class will explore not only what it is like to live in a non-magical world but what it means to not have magic in the first place," Alex continued. "But before you can even do that you need to understand non magical people. Who are they, what do they want, how do they feel? Are they so different that we can never understand them? Why is it that they don't have magic and wizards and witches do? What are they to us and what are we to them? What would we do if we lost our magic and was forced to live in the no-mage world?"

"Commit suicide!" someone mutter in the back of the class.

There was some snickering at that but most of the class was too afraid of saying something. Part of this was because of the rumors about weapons-happy colonials and their need for violence if you didn't agree with them.

Alexander continued. "The obvious truth is that the far, far majority of the people on this world have no magical abilities. They can't create spells, they can't apparate, they can't use Petronas as a way of communication. They unable to create potions such as Polyjuice. They can't get on a broom and flyway. They most certainly can't use wands. So, what can they do?"

"Nothing but walk around, sleep and eat," laughed Theodore Nott one is Slytherin students. Several of the other students laughed also laughed at the comment. "Without magic, how can they do anything?"

Alexander fold his arms and smiled. "People who agree with his comments, please raise your hands. And don't worry. Your opinions are not being held against you in class. So, speak freely."

About half the students in the class raised their hands. It looked as if another third wanted to raise theirs.

"Students, I have a question that I want you to answer, but, not right away," Said Professor Delane. "Life, no matter where it us or in what form, finds away. Therefore, since magic is a part of life, does this mean that magic is present in everything, including non-magicals?"

Hermione raised her hand.

"Didn't you hear what Professor Delane said?" snapped Professor Harris. "Do-not-answer now."

Granger's hand quickly lowered. it was somewhat amusing at how quickly she was cowed but nobody was laughing.

draco gulped as he felt the power of that command.

Alexander smiled inwardly. _She's so much like Willow._

_**TBC**_

Now I can finally start working on WW:ETB for a while.

Peace and tranquility, people.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Master Xander**_

_**Chapter Ten **_

Professor Harris, wand in hand, touched the center of the desk with it. There was a soft glow at the wand's tip, characteristic of magic flowing through it, and the desk's color, changed from a dark brown to a lighter almost cream color. It was a simple charm, one that any of the young students were capable of.

Naturally, the students were unimpressed, but it did confirm that the professor could use a wand properly even though the way he performed his wand movements seemed somewhat erratic when compared to the way most people usually performed magic with wands. There was some question about his magical competence as many of the students that had visited his store never really actually saw him using his wand. There was a rumor that the professor was barely magical, and was closer to a squib actually than anything else. That and other rumors were pushed by the Daily Prophet in a series of articles written by the reporter Rita Skeeter. The articles from their ace reporter were particularity vicious. Her series of articles about the '6Americans' and their 'unfair' competition practiced against the 'innocent' stores and shop owners of Diagon Alley, suffering the degradation of those American immigrants who were taking jobs away from the upright citizens of Magical Britain was yellow journalism of the lowest sort.

This small burst of magic helped dispel l the rumors circulating though some of the houses.

"Okay, we don't deny that the ability to use magic makes life easier. It gives us a sense of power. Magic _is_ power. It is something that certain people are born with. It is an ability that helps in the survival in the human race. Now, having said that, I want you to think about this," he continued, looking at a somewhat confused group of children. "Is magic a survival trait? A show of hands please, if you agree to this."

Most of the students raised their hands.

Alex nodded to the class. "Does the ability to use magic make us stronger and, or superior to the non-magical people that live on Earth, agree or disagree?"

This time, almost all of the students raised their hands.

"Okay, then why is it that the magical community is so afraid of people who have no magical power?"

Daphne Greengrass quickly raised her hand. Alex nodded and the girl stood up. To his amusement he saw Hermione's look of disappointment at not being able to answer the question. "The magical community is very powerful; we can all agree to that," she said succinctly. "But the muggles-"

"No-mages, or non-magicals are the names for them used in this class," Professor Delane corrected, having a clear note of disapproval and the merest touch of menace that the young pupil immediately sensed. "If we are going to study about them, then we should use the appropriate terms to identify them."

Miss Greengrass gave a barely perceptible nod and continued without missing a beat. "No-mages breed too quickly and their populations have exploded."

"Much like the Wesley clan," snickered Draco. Several of the students laughed.

"Class," said Professor Delane. "We don't usually give or take point arbitrarily. We do however, give out lots and lots of homework for the week to students who disappoint us. Am I clear?" Draco felt the world on his shoulders and it was pressing down on him hard. "Yes, Professor. Understood."

Ron couldn't help smiling somewhat hysterically.

"Please continue Miss Greengrass."

"They fear us and our power. That is why we keep our communities secret from the no-mages. If they found out about us and our communities, then they will burn us all at the stake or torture us to try" to gain our power."

"A quick point and something to think about, students" interrupted Professor Harris. "If the Statute of Secrecy is so effective, then non-magical people should not know anything about magic in the first place. But they do, so what does this imply?"

Ceraine looked at her and continued to make her point. "So, you're saying that our magic is superior to anything the non-magical community can strike at us with." Again, Daphne nodded. "But we would lose to them because they have the numbers? But our community is strong and if we come together, we can do anything we want. So, it seems to me that there's something wrong. With all of our abilities. With all of our magic, we would still be defeated in a war? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes," said Daphne. She was somewhat less certain now. It felt as if she were walking into a trap but she couldn't see it. "We all know the histories. Witches and wizards interacting with no-mages has always resulted in disaster. When they discover the truth about us and our magic, they become jealous and afraid. Then the inevitable happens. We are burned us at the stake or they use some other way to kill us. It's a well-known historical fact."

"When was the last time a witch or wizard was burned at the stake?" asked Professor Harris.

Surprisingly to Harry and the majority of the class, Draco Malfoy raised his hand. The professors acknowledged his existence and he half sneered, "just recently. It happens all the time. When those people see witches and wizards performing magic, they attack us. That is why we separate ourselves from them, otherwise it would lead to war," he finished. A moment later, he added, "We would win such a war, of course."

The boy reminded Harris of a certain bleached vampire but this young man's hair was naturally blond. "Do you know of any concrete evidence of which burning that has happened recently?"

"No, but I'm sure that it has happened possibly as late as last week," defended a confident and defiant Draco.

"Interesting," Professor Harris respond. "If that's true, then either the normal people are stronger than we believe, or the magical folk are a lot weaker, or that the Statute is not doing its job and magical people are not adhering to it."

"There should be records of those incidents in the news," Draco added. "My father mentions these incidents all of the time."

"Good, good," Professor Delane said. "That will be your assignment, Mister…?"

"Malfoy," the young man proudly answered.

Mister Malfoy," smiled the professor. The way she said it was some dazzling that it took some of the sting out of the fact that he was stuck with an assignment he hadn't really anticipated. He was positive that somehow, he'd been tricked into this assignment. He was irritated but had to admit it was very Slytherin of her.

"That implies that the Statute of Secrecy may not be being adhered to as much as it should be," Alex said while looking at the class in general. "Assuming that what Mister Malfoy is saying is true, then this is one of the primary reasons why we keep ourselves separated from them," Alexander continued. "So, in conclusion, the Stature exists for our safety. Does anyone agree with that comment?"

Everyone's hands raised but there was an uncertainty now. The seeds were planted and were planted deep.

Professor Harris turned to another student. "Miss Granger, it is good to see you again. I have a question for you. Since you are one of the students who lives in the no-mage culture, what is your opinion about living among them? Is it good, bad, or something else?" Are you indifferent? Does it excite you? Does it bother you? Do you fear living in the no-mage world? Please explain."

Hermione looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. She was a magical born to non-magical parents and until she discovered that she did have magical powers she was quite content. Now, she was caught between two worlds, desperately trying to fit in a world that in many cases treated her with disdain because of her heritage. Many people were prejudiced against her because her parents weren't magical, while many other people quietly considered her a stain of community because of it. She was well aware that she and others like her were called names behind their backs and unless they were exceptional, their futures weren't bright inside of the British magical community. At her tender age, this was very disheartening and it forced her to work even harder to be accepted in the short and long terms.

Being called mudblood and other even more despicable names truly hurt. But she ignored those comments as best she could, determined to prove herself and not to allow these people to tear her down. Still, talking to her fellow students and friends about life in the non-magical world was difficult. Many just didn't understand.

"Before I knew I had magic everything was fine. I did everything that normal people did. I was unaware of how the magical community lived until I came to Hogwarts. To me, life was normal."

Professor Delane interrupted her before she could continue. "So now that you've been exposed to magic are you afraid of the no-mage people that are your friends and family?"

"Only my parents know about magic. We've kept the secret from everyone else as stated by law." The young girl's eyes were scrunched up in thought. "I'm not afraid of them at all. But I have to be careful around them because of the Statute of Secrecy. They needn't know about magic because it would endanger both them and us."

"Ah, now you've said something interesting," said Professor Harris. "They are a danger to us, but we are also a danger to them. Is that what you're saying?"

"I am saying that we need to maintain our secrets to keep both sides from being endangered. There are too many of them and not enough of us."

It was the 'them vs us' mentality that Harris wanted the tyo realize. he wanted them to understand what thatrutly meant. further, the word 'normal' was a word that everyone was trying to avoid and he resolved to beat that word to death in his students. They had no idea what normal was when it came to humanity as a whole.

Harris began pacing the room while, Ceraine sat on the desk and crossed her legs unconsciously pulling every young male eye towards her direction.

"That is what I want to discuss today," Harris told them. "It's about them or it's about us. That's how we define and separate us one from another. They're different, therefore they can't be trusted. _They_ will kill us if they find out, so we have to obliviate them whenever they experience any hint of magic. I propose that that way of thinking is a recipe for disaster." He paused for a moment as he stared at the defiant looks being directed at him the class. "Well," he whispered. "Let me tell you a secret."

Ceraine continued **without** missing a beat. "In America, where we were trained, it was proven to us, that magic exists everywhere. It's in the smallest to the largest of things." She wanted to use viruses and bacteria as examples but then she would have to explain what those were and that would distract from her point. Most of the children here had no idea of the basic of known of biology, so she kept it as basic as possible. "It is only a matter of degree how much magic is present, if it can be used and how it is expressed. What this means is that there is really no such thing as non-magical people or things. _Everything_ has magic. And everything, and everybody in their own way uses it or it dies. And each person, animal, or thing has a unique way of using it. Some can access it directly such as wizards, witches and magical animals and manipulate…magical energy in almost all of its forms. This type of manipulation can be used to animate and infuse objects, creating magical artifacts limited to only the imagination and the amount of power _and intent_ available to the manipulator. Did you know that the magic in the air can be used by some people who are able to can gather and use it in the same ways as witches and wizards can use their inner cores?"

"That's Impossible," Ron Weasley yelled out while a stunned Draco looked at him, shocked as he was in agreement with a Weasley. "They have to have a core that is able to use magic in the first place. Everyone knows that."

"He is right, professor," Harry added feeling wonderful at the ability to jump into a conversation in a class without being openly rebuked. "You just told us that everyone has a core but only some can use magic like wizards and witches. Those cores can't be magical, not as we understand it."

"Mister Weasley is partially correct. Both of you are," Harris told them.

"Think about this. Every living human on Earth has a magical core. It can be active such as in witches and wizards or it can be inactive. The inactive cores in people for example, cannot access magic like a witch or wizard. Or, can they? A so-called squib cannot use magic, not because they don't have a core, but that the core is unable to access the needed requirements to manipulate magic. But is it really inactive or… is not being used for the manipulation of magical energy? What if those cores could be changed? Would they become magical or would those cores express themselves in another form? And as I said, some people who have inactive cores,t can use magic just as effectively as the magical community."

"Professor," Hermione said as she raised her hand all but demanding to be heard. "If what you have told us is correct, then magical cores must be active so that a person or magical creature can use magic. It is _impossible_ for those who have no active cores to use magic."

"Active cores allow magic to be used. But those beings that don't have active cores who use magic use something, something outside their cores and it works. In some cases it is called mutation. athat is a concept we will discuss later. In fact, I might consider giving a class on magical core and the science of genetics called the science of magical inheritance which is a lot more complicated than you might think. The question we should be asking is, what really defines a magical core and how may variations there are of said cores?"

Professor Delane smiled. "Did you know that a few squibs have full access to magic even though test would confirm that they are squibs and they don't even know it. It is very possible that some pure bloods might be families of magically stable squibs." She smiled at the stunned looks of absolute disbelief of the students glaring at her. "Everyone is focused on whether a person has magic or not in magical families. Logically, there is the assumption that they must have active cores. It is a well know believe that Pureblood magical families have pure magical children. But there is a lot more to this than simple inheritance. There are a lot of factors that allows one to have magic, otherwise squibs would not be born into pureblood families."

There was a collective gasp heard throughout the classroom.

"But as Professor Harris said, we will get into that later. This class will focus on the non-magical people of the world. They do not have magic but they have compensated for this lack. Instead of magic they have science and the questions are, how do they live, what do they do and how is it that they can survive without magic? What have they achieved and what do we know about them that could affect our lives? Could we survive in a non-magical environment and how much do they really know about magic despite the Secrecy Act? These are questions we will discuss in the coming weeks. For now, let us begin our study of non-magical objects you see in this room, what they are, how they work and why non magicals can't stand to live without them."

"This is my personal favorite," Alex began. "It's my LG OLED C12 flat screen television."

"What magical company made it?" asked Miss Granger. "It's not an ordinary TV. It doesn't even have a picture tube. It's too thin to be a muggle TV."

"It is a non-magical TV warded so that it can be used here at the school."

"Impossible," Hermione scoffed.

"Where I come from, this is the state of the art," smiling as he said it. "Magic and science are not exclusive arts. Less scoffing and more thinking, Miss Granger."

A hand raised.

"Yes, sir?"

"Professor, ah. Exactly what is a TV?"

"Young man, I'm glad you asked that question."

Thus, began the first week of the loudest, most rambunctious week in the history of Hogwarts. That week was like nothing ever seen at the school as students literally scrambled into their respective seats and waited for class to begin. Energetic wasn't the right word to describe the class, especially as Professors Harris had a gift for aggravating his students much to their delight and frustration.

"So, the Los Angeles National Guard, that's their city militia had to go into the sewers and wipe out those giant ants before they could wipe out the city and spread across the world," finished Alex.

It took every once of power Ceraine had to keep from rolling her eyes.

As usual, it was Daphne who stood up ready to argue first, much to Hermione's irritation at being beaten yet again. "You're not telling us the truth!" she yelled. "America doesn't have giant magical ants!"

"I didn't say they were magical," her teacher responded. "These ants were created as a by-product of non-magical experimentation. Then there was the problem with the giant grasshopper, you would call them locusts, that attacked Midwest Illinois. The army couldn't stop them and they overran the city of Chicago. Again, that is in the United states of America. They were the size of buses or bigger. The army and scientists figured out how to attract them and they were able to drown them all in Lake Michigan. That was decades ago. It's interesting that locust corpses still wash up on 31st Street Beach occasionally. The city usually tries to dismiss them as driftwood from old ships that sank in the 1800s." Alexander whispered fondly. "Ah, the good old days."

"Most of the students in the room looked appropriately horrified.

Terry Boot of house Ravenclaw started mumbling. "What a horrible country. How could anyone live in that wretched place?"

"Scotland has giant spiders…"

"They are called acromantulas, Professor," corrected one Cho Chang. She looked a little shy speaking up. In this class, it was almost expected.

"That's what I said," the professor deadpanned. "Giant spiders, centaurs and other magical creatures," Professor Harris said. "Why can't America have radioactive, non-magical creatures. You have magical mandrake plants. America had alien plants like the Thing from Another World. That was a super vegetable that looked like a large human. It came here in a spaceship to get to Earth and found itself in the artic near a small American military-exploration outpost. It was accidently unthawed and went on a rampage because it needed blood for its progeny it had stored in seed pods located in its forearms."

"Let me guess," said a very sarcastic Susanna Hesleden. "The American military killed it before it could create an army of killer plants."

"Of course," smiled Alex.

"Merlin! The American Army are busy blokes," Neville Longbottom exclaimed. "But couldn't they had explained to the plant that what it was trying to do was wrong?"

Mister Longbottom looked so sincerely and heartbroken at the thought of an intelligent plant being destroyed by ruthless American soldiers that he almost felt sorry for him. "There was a scientist that thought the same thing. He almost got everyone there on the outpost killed." He looked at Neville, who was looking distinctively uncomfortable under the scrutiny. "The Thing was about to beat everyone to death with a giant piece of wood so it could feed its new army on fresh blood. Mister Longbottom, they were scheduled to be used as plant fertilizer. Would that have been better?"

Neville gulped. "I guess not, sir."

"Then there was Audrey II. That was a telepathic man-eating plant that also needed fresh blood to thrive. As an adult, it ate people that its master fed to it." He sighed and continued the story. "It's always about the blood, but I'll admit it had a magnificent singing voice. Notice students that none of these were magical plants but aliens from other worlds. None of these threats were even noticed by the magical community."

Silence.

"If the non-magicals hadn't stopped it, do you possible believe that those threats would have ignored the magical community? Would the magical communities have been able to stop them?"

"Our protections would have stopped them!" Malfoy said.

"Do you really believe that?" asked Professor Delane. "Can you imagine three to four million ants half the size of railroad cars swarming over Scotland and not notice Hogwarts or Hogsmeade? Do you believe you would be safe?"

Again, there was silence. Most of the girls in the classroom looked pale and the boys didn't look any better.

Professor Harris tapped his wand on the desk regaining everyone's attention. He smiled widely. "Of course, I _could_ be lying."

"I knew it!" Susan yelled. "Everything he said was a lie!"

Hermione jumped up as did Harry and Ron. "You can't call the professor a liar!"

Harris folded his arms, pleased that they would defend him. "Well, she could be right," admitted Harris to a shocked and confused class. "But Miss Bones, how would you know?" He turned again to address the class. "And that's the point. I could well be lying to you with every word I say, or I could be telling you the absolute truth. But how would you know? Non-magicals went to the moon thirty plus years ago, but you had no idea, or you didn't believe it. My students, I will tell you many, many things about no-mages and I could be lying. However, it is up to you to prove or disprove it. I just told you that mankind went to the moon. You are the ones to prove that I am lying or telling the truth."

"How?" asked Neville. He wondered what type of Professor would openly admit to lying?

"It's a technique called study and research. In this class, it would be wise of you all not to take my word for anything. In this class, you will have to study your little hearts out to prove me right or to prove me wrong. There will be a lot of things that we will learn about. Some of these observations will be unbelievable but true. Others will seem absolutely true but are false. You need to know what is true and what isn't. Don't just don't take my word for it in this classroom. But make no mistake," he said softly. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Outside this classroom, I will tell you the truth and I expect you to do the same. In real life and I don't mean this place," he said as he stretched his arms to encompass the school, "your word is your reputation. Tell the truth and always verify. It will keep you safe," he finished, as he glanced at Hermione for a quick instant.

"Professor," asked an anxious Harry Potter. "Were the things you spoke of about the giant ants and locust true?"

Professor looked as serious as he'd ever been. "Research time, Mister Potter. Everybody, that's your assignment. Mister Malfoy, you are excused from this assignment as you have one of your own you are still working on. Everyone else, is the American army constantly saving the Earth from giant bugs, speaking of which…"

He glanced over at Ceraine who nodded. She had noticed it as well. The tip of her wand brightened a dark blue as power surged within it. The room's wards locked down effectively trapping everyone and everything inside.

Alex tapped his wand on the desk and a strange object appeared on the desktop. This everyone is a no-mage product. It is a spay can containing a chemical affectionally called Raid Ant and Roach Killer. It kills bugs dead." Then he added. "Not the giant ones you're going to research. Those need anti-tank rounds. But for little things, it works just fine. Allow me to demonstrate."

He grabbed the can and headed towards the back of the classroom as he explained what he was about to do. "I saw a flying roach in the back of the room and I will not tolerate those creatures in my room. Just a tiny spray will do it. Then he began laughing like a madman.

Suddenly a large beetle began desperately flying around the room while Harris chased it, can in hand. The fleeing beetle made a mistake and turned the wrong way in its desperate attempts to flee.

_Squirt_!

"It smells horrible," someone yelled as the oily chemical covered the frantically twitching beetle.

"Class dismissed for today."

Conjuring a small glass cage, he placed the beetle inside. He looked at the poisoned creature squirming inside. "I wonder how long it'll take to die?" In response the beetle's movement turned even more frantic. He quietly spoke to the insect inside of the transparent plastic box. "Rita animagus, I warned you, Skeeter. You didn't listen. So, listen now, roach. You won't die but for the next few days, you will wish you had. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe in this glass cage until you get better. I wouldn't try to change back if I were you..."

"That's cruel," Granger snapped as she exited the class and saw the Professor staring at his squirming, obviously in distress captive beetle.

Harris stopped her and she froze at Harris' intense glare. "Weren't you listening in class, young lady? American have a thing about bugs."

_**Editing and modifications 12-20-2019. **_

_**Note:**_ So far, there has been no Potter canon changes that have directly effected Harry's story line as of yet. But all that will change as the next chapters show. We are at the beginning of the 'Goblet' things will take a subtle change of direction as enemies known and unknown begin to make their appearances. No Ron bashing as such but certain habits will get him into a wee bit of trouble and his parents will not be pleased.

Bye for now.


	11. MX11

_**Master Xander **_

_**Chapter 11**_

_**Interlude:**_

Rita skeeter, ace reporter of the Daily Prophet, had never felt more miserable, frightened, and alone in her life than she did at this moment. She was trapped in her beetle form and didn't dare revert back to her human form unless she chose to commit suicide. The glass cube she was stuck in was barely large enough to contain her animagus form. And the few air holes which allowed her to breathe, were too small to allow for her escape. The cube was her prison for the last few days and the person she had come to loathe and fear continually glared at her through her prison. But that wasn't the worst of it.

She felt horrible. That 'man' had sprayed her with some type of poison, and whatever it was played havoc on her nervous system and had caused a form of respiratory distress which made her breathing erratic. Furthermore, every time she took a labored breath, she could smell and taste that vile, oily liquid, which made her want to gag, which she would have if she had anything on her stomach.

Rita hadn't noticed the eyeball staring at her, but when she did, she tried to scream, (something she couldn't do in her present form). Suddenly, her prison disappeared and instantly, she reverted to her human form.

Coughing and hacking, Rita looked around and to her shock, she discovered that she was in her own apartment lying prone of the floor. The man had somehow gotten into her home!

As a reporter, one that wasn't loved by everyone, the need for her to invest in a series of very expensive protective wards was a very sensible precaution. Oh, she felt perfectly safe, but the wards were there _just in case_. Those wards were specifically attuned to her, but they didn't feel as they should have. The wards felt somehow muted, as if they were being suppressed or maybe reflected.

This wasn't right and the feeling only served to increase her fear.

Then, she saw him, the American sitting in her favorite chair, just as casually as you pleased as if he owned the place. He was smiling and there was nothing friendly about it.

"Hello, Miss. Skeeter."

Her terror increased. "If you think that you will get away with this, you are very much mis…"

"Please," the man dismissed before she could finish. "Have some dignity, stand up," he ordered. "You look foolish sitting on your butt like that."

Rita found herself standing up. She assumed that he had to had used magic on her to force her up like this. Rita swooned as her body was still adjusting to becoming human once again. She looked and felt a crumpled mess. Her glasses smeared by that oily spray, her hair a sticky mess, and her days-old makeup made her look like some crazed clown. And to make matters even worse, her wand was on the table too far for her to reach. All of those magical defense classes were effectively useless. She was in a terrible spot and she knew it.

"Two years ago, when you came to visit my store with your snotty attitude, you were condescending to Ceraine and myself. Then you wrote several articles, trying to start controversy between me and my fellow store owners in Diagon Alley. Of course, you didn't stop and tried to get the purebloods to push us out." There was an instant when he glared at her and she could literally read what he was thinking. The look on his face was the same as someone who had stepped in something in the street. It didn't work."

"The community had a right to know why you are here and not back in your country where you belonged," she countered, albeit weakly. "The people had a right to know what you are trying to hide, or what you are running from."

"Alex shook his head. "You make me wish Cordelia was here."

Cordelia would give given this woman a tongue lashing that would have burned his ears off. He could only dream. Shaking his head gently, he looked past her, deep in thought. Even after all of these years, her death still affected him. The vampire with-a-soul exacted suitable vengeance though. He owed Angel for that one.

"Who is she?"

"Doesn't matter," he dismissed. "What does matter is this. I politely warned you to back off. I even submitted to an interview with you, which you twisted to your own views. That really pissed me off. If you want to know the truth, it pissed both of us off." He smiled at her and she shivered. "You should be thankful that I stopped Ceraine from sending you to a hell dimension for a few years."

_What was he talking about? Was that a threat on her life_? she asked herself. "I'm a journalist," she coughed.

"So, you say," Alex whispered in her ear. She hadn't realized that he was next to her until she felt his breath on her ear. "You know, if it wasn't for your ugly-looking hair, and your lousy taste in make-up, not to mention you cruddy taste in clothes, and your pathetically rotten-to-the-core personality, you might be cute," he told her, much to her irritation and confusion. "Then there's that smell."

"That is not my fault. You sprayed me with that horrid stuff!"

It was a rare thing for her to be thrown off her game, however this man was confusing her. Was this man attempting to make a pass at her after what he'd done? Well, she never expected something like that.

Alex had confused her and he knew it. "Just to let you know that what I sprayed with is a poison. It kills roaches."

"It's a beetle!"

Alexander shrugged, and he tapped his wand on his knee. "Beetle, roach, same difference. The reason you're not dead is that you're human imitating a bug. But I promise the next time you're sprayed will be the last time. Your beetle form will not survive. If you manage to turn back to human, then you will suffer the effects for the rest of your life. You'll never feel right again. You'll never be able to change again without dying. Your little feet will be sticking up in the air like a little dead roach."

She gulped. "You're lying. You wouldn't do that. It's murder!"

Alex rolled his eyes. "I've watched you smear a lot, and I mean a lot of people in my three years here, and I saw the joy in your profile picture as you tore people apart. How many people have had their lives completely ruined because of your spite? How many people have died because of your smears? Do you even know, you bitter old cow?" he snarled. "Of course, I would." The man looked livid and Rita shrank from his gaze which made her feel like a scared little child. "You've gone at the Potter kid relentlessly. What did that little boy do to you?" he asked.

She didn't know what to say, not to this man. Rita felt that anything she had to say would just place her in more danger than she already was. Her instincts were screaming at her to keep her mouth shut.

"Wait, don't answer that," he growled, letting her off the hook for the moment. "Answer this. How did you get by Hogwarts' wards?"

"That is privileged information," she answered before she could stop herself. The woman barely got the words out when her eyes started bulging outwards as a can of Raid Ant and Roach spray appeared next to Alex's wand on the table. He casually picked up the can and looked at her. "Okay, your choice."

"No!"

He began carefully examining the can. He turned the spray nozzle in her direction. "Good grief, I can't even pronounce some of the ingredients in this potion but they all seem bad."

Rita nearly fainted in terror.

"Miss. Skeeter, I want you to understand that I am not your friend. You are an unregistered animagus, but you won't have to worry about that because you will never use it again if you value your life once I hit you with this spray a second time. Naturally your human form will suffer physical agony for the rest of your life because of your alternative form. The taste and smell will remain with you until you die. No matter what you do, people will always notice the smell when you are around. No one will ever want to be around you. Ever." He waved his wand, and it glowed a bit as he sent a wave of magical energy which slammed into her. "Don't worry, that's just insurance. You will never be able to tell anyone what happened to you."

"You cannot obliviate me! It's illegal to do that to a member of the Press!"

"Who said anything about obliviating you?" he asked her. "Tell me, how did you get into the school undetected Don't lie, I will know and the consequences will be severe," he told her as he played with the spray nozzle once more.

Rita hesitated but only for a moment. "It was someone in the Ministry who showed me how to slip through the wards."

"Who?" he demanded.

She told him, told him everything.

"Wise decision, Skeeter." He smiled at her and walked towards her apartment door. "Thank you ever so much," he said mockingly.

"You're evil," she screamed.

"I'm not evil. I'm just bad," he smirked. "And that's better than being a low-level gossiper," he retorted. "Remember what I said. I am not your friend. Write your next articles carefully."

With that, he stepped through her door and to her surprise, she never saw he enter the hallway. He hadn't apparated as far as she could tell.

_What just happened?_

He was so intense!

Her poisoning, being trapped in a cage, the threats, it was all too much for her. She grabbed her wand and held it close as she cried. Falling on her bed she checked her now functioning wards and fell into a fitful sleep and unconsciously dreamed about a man who was so bad, he was good…

* * *

An hour later, Alexander sat in his chair in his apartment, going through everything had Rita had told him. It wasn't much, but it was enough to confirm that he was being watched by not one but two elements in the Ministry. The first he expected. It was the second that was most interesting and the one he'd have to watch.

Years of preparation were now coming to fruition.

_**The Fourth Class**_

"We've had a couple of classes now, and Professor Harris. We have let you think about what we've talk about concerning magical cores and I just want to touch on this a little more before we move on to more interesting things. What we've discussed so far will be on your first upcoming exam. I'll have a firm date on said exam at next class." Professor Delane said, to the moans of the class.

The reaction made her smile. The students were so typical. What was pleasant however, was that those same students weren't exactly unhappy, either. They appeared to be anticipating this exam, preparing for the opportunity to test themselves on this new and very interesting subject.

"To sum up our discussion, I use the term 'life core' as a general term for the cores that are found in every _living_ creature. This term can include magical cores as defined by this class. The term 'magical core' will be used to define any living creature that has the ability to access magic in any form. Are there any questions before we continue?"

None of the students raised objections. A few said that they understood the terms.

"Good," Ceraine continued. "At my old research institute, we are still learning about life cores. What has been discovered is that our cores function in a variety of ways we are still learning about. This brings out my point. It's not magical or non-magical, not active or inactive cores, or how large that core is that matters. It is the amount of reserve and what type of energy reserve that the core stores. A small core can store a huge amount of magical reserves. Conversely, a so-called large sore may be incapable of storing huge amounts. We have also learned that everyone has some level of magical reserve.

"I repeat, every core uses magic in some way and at some level. Magic keeps every single person alive and to paraphrase a well-known author, 'Magic, like life, finds a way and one cannot exist without the other. So, one of my obvious question on the test will be is, are non-magical people really non-magical? I want you to argue for or against my supposition. Think carefully as you prepare your arguments or rush to judgement. The next question on the exam will be this. We obliviate non-magicals to make sure that memories of what they've seen of us and our magic is removed. They have no choice in the matter. I postulate that we are as much a danger to them as they are to us. As magicals, is this the correct way to proceed? Answer yes or no and then present your arguments accordingly. Also, just because that is my opinion doesn't make me right, so simply agreeing with me will not necessarily give you a high score."

"Yes," Professor Harris added. "We are giving you the questions before the exam. It is because we don't want you to parrot us. We want you to think and argue your points to us. You will be graded accordingly. Here are some rules. The answers must be written on the paper provided in your desks. You must use the ink pens provided not quills. All answers will be no less than one page and no more than a page and a half. We demand that your penmanship, or hand writing skills be at their best. We want legibility. Anything less will result in a student failing the exam."

The students were quiet. Some were already preparing their arguments for the exam.

Nearly all the students now understood and agreed about the danger and the methods used, but it seemed in the best interests for all involved. But now, some were questioning the frequency of use. They could need data to see just how many people were being obliviated.

We have no idea who many people have died from magical attacks or have been obliviated in order to protect the Secrecy Act. How many have been murdered by death-eaters? We'll never know because the Ministry doesn't keep records. Those people aren't important enough.

"Bonus question. Our people obliviate them with impunity. How can they have burned our people at the stake or killed magicals on a regular basis if they have no memory of magic in first place? Speaking of which, Mister Malfoy, how is your research coming along with the witch burning stats? What does this imply?"

The young man stood up. His face looked sour. "I am still working on it. So far, I have researched the Daily Prophet and although there are mentions of such acts, they do not have any reports to back them up."

"Keep searching," Alex told him. "Get help from a few students in the class as required. You may find that over time, people have changed, but how will we know unless you have the data to back you up? For all we know they might have accepted us a long time ago. On the other side of the equation, we may be at the beginnings of a war. Keep working on it and report what you find."

"Yes, Professor," the young blond muttered.

Yes, he'd been set up by the American muggle-loving professors and he knew it. He wouldn't give up and now he had permission to get help from his fellow Slytherins. There was no way he would lose this argument. He would prove his belief even if he had to ask his parents for assistance.

'Professors, I have a question," asked Sonia Newport a Ravenclaw. "Why are learning about magical cores? We were led to believe that this we would be studying the lives of non-magicals."

"A good question," responded Harris. "I'll answer it in this way for now, but we will come back to this later. "In order to know about the non-magical community, we have to know ourselves first. How can we compare our cultures and existences if we don't know of ourselves and what makes us, _us_?"

The girl looked confused as she thought about what the professor said. Suddenly her eyes lit up and then narrowed in contemplation.

"Okay, that is settled. Now, as you well know, this Wednesday will be the official announcement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Two other schools will be joining us and I am sure that some of those students will be sitting in one some of our classes. Whether they will visit our class and discover the joys of non-magical studies, I don't know. That will be their professor's decisions." There was a slight pause. "For some reason, they didn't ask Livermony to attend since it is a registered school, but I guess this is a European thing," he alleged and smile widely as many of the students bristled at the perceived insult.

_The fight was on._


	12. Chapter 12

_**Master Xander**_

_**Chapter 12**_

_**Non-Magical Studies Class**_

"It is traditional for the three schools, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang to participate in the tournament as they have done since the thirteenth century," Hermione stated. "Professor, tradition is very important."

Alex kept from rolling his eyes. She was so much like a miniature Willow without the shyness. "I agree that tradition is important, but only to a point." He looked at the ceiling as if he could see the sky and beyond. "I guess only three of the eleven magical schools count in magical Britain."

"With the Tri-Wizard contest, they are," protested Ron. 'The three schools are the eldest and most experienced. The contest is dangerous and only schools with previous experience should participate."

"You've been studying, Mister Wesley," Ceraine beamed while Ron turned an interesting shade of red. "That is a discussion for another time."

"Just how dangerous is this contest?"

"I'd say it's dangerous," answered Ronald. "I don't know the details yet, but my parents talked about it and what they told us was very scary."

"Well, we'll find out the details soon. Now as we were saying6, some students will be sitting in on our class, so I expect you to be courteous and patient with them since they will be somewhat confused by our, shall we say robust discussions?" There was a rambunctious laughter heard from those near the classroom. "Remember that you represent Hogwarts, so and the other professors and staff expect you to be on your best behavior. We would hate to have Professor Dumbledore reprimand one or more of our students in front of our visitors."

"Yes, Professor," the students responded in unison.

Now Alex spoke up. "Has your research discovered any truth concerning giant ants and blood-drinking vegetables?

The room went quiet for a moment as Daphne stood up. All eyes were fixed on her. The young woman took a calming breath while both pairs of instructor's eyes bored down on her.

"We, and by that, I mean everyone here in this class have researched extensively. We examined our library, and different newspapers including the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler going back to the 1940s and we found no evidence that what you've alleged about those creatures and plants are real. We must therefore conclude that you were not telling us the truth." She gulped and sat down.

Professor Alexander Harris smiled, and the students shrank back. Suddenly, their professor had the look of a hungry, dangerous predator preparing to strike. "Okay class, where did you research?"

Hands came up. Some students had even spoken to their parents and relatives. About the history of the 1950s era was checked. Several students checked with other professors for information. No one was able to find any information about giant ants or locust. Searching for man-eating, non-magical plants that walked like people proved to be an exercise in futility.

"Terrible," Harris said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Simply terrible. Students, this is a class for the study of non-magical culture and history. Do you believe that a magical newspaper or source would have any information on non-magical events? Did anyone think to search in a non-magical library?"

From the looks of shock and in some cases disgust, none of the students had thought about it except perhaps one or two who had lived in the non-magical world.

"That isn't possible for us, Professor Harris," Hermione said. "We aren't allowed in non-magical libraries. We aren't allowed off the school grounds to go to one."

"History time," Harris said. "Where I came from, there was a town called Sunnydale, California, located in United States of America. Some of you may know it as the Colonies. As I have mentioned to our classes before, magicals and no-mags associated with each other. One of the things that we did together was research. We researched things you wouldn't believe. The point is that we did it together. We also had the resources to do it. Sunnydale was a dangerous town. We had several dark lords and non-magical homicidal maniacs constantly menacing the town, usually in the spring of the year, every year it seemed." There were surprise gasps throughout the room. "Like every other town we had good people and bad people both sides. We _had_ to research in order to survive against a number of dark creatures you don't need to know about. They didn't discriminate between us magicals and the normal community. Therefore, people had to work together. Eventually, the dark ones got so bad that our town was destroyed. A magical force decided it wanted to overrun the world with evil. My friends and I magically blew up the town creating a sinkhole stopping the attack. All that is left is a lake filled with saltwater, which is, if you have studied, is a purifier both naturally and magical. A quick fact, Sunnydale lake is ten miles wide and _three_ mile deep–we think. Most of the people in the United States assumed it was a natural occurrence, but for the survivors of Sunnydale, we know the truth. The point is that we worked together, and we found more things in common than we did then in our differences. Research helped save us.

"But in order to do proper research, you need to have the tools to do it. That is what all this equipment is for. It will be used for research. Most classes use parchment. Here we use paper and pens, not quills and ink blots that spills everywhere so that one of the first spells you learn in an ink-removing spell. That won't be a problem in this class. Students, how can you research when you don't have the capability to do so? You don't even have the capability of seeing the planes flying overhead because of magical seclusion. Therefore, let us see if we can research like the normal people."

Every eye followed him as he strolled to the metal, rectangle box on one of the tables. "This object is called a computer. It can calculate, show images, create images, store tens of thousands of books. That includes every book at Hogwarts and a few thousands outside of your standard magical school. Those are restricted, and in some cases warded against. Some books as you know are dangerous and I have taken steps to make sure that the words on the screen cannot affect the readers of said words. That would be of the bad." Immediately he chided himself. He honestly believed that he had gotten away from the childish phrase. "Mostly, it is a major aid when it comes to research. This computer is not magical, but it is magically connected to my server, which is connected to my main server located in a secured place." He didn't elaborate that the main server drew its data from a dimensional junction connected to his home dimension. "A server is basically a larger computer that can send information to smaller computers upon request. It has a lot more information. These smaller rectangular boxes are called tablets. They can perform the same function. All of them are connected to the large screen television which I will demonstrate."

He sat down on the chair and told the students to crow around. He typed in the words 'images of ant', on the thing he called a keyboard.

"What unhinged person created a thing where the letters are all over the place and in such a crazy format?"

"I'll tell you later." He hit the word enter and instantly, images of ants appeared on the huge television screen in unimagined detail. The pictures kept coming and coming and were in excruciating detail. The images were breath-taking.

"Professor, please type in 'mandrake'," Neville asked excitedly. He was terrified of those plants, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

"I want you to try it, Mister Longbottom," offering the young man the seat. Envious eyes looked on as he sat down in the offered seat and studied the keyboard. Hermione, in her excitement almost knocked the boy out of his chair.

"Let me do it! You're too slow!"

Alex immediately petrified her and floated her to the back of the crowd and removed the spell. "Wait your turn," he yelled at the embarrassed young lady. "One point from Gryffindor for being too pushy. No homework for you, Miss. You'd like it too much. Instead, you will be last in line for all access for a week."

"Professor," she shrieked. "You can't do this!"

"Yes, I can. Be careful or it will be two weeks."

"Look!" Neville yelled, drawing everyone's attention back to him and the screen. "Mandrake species. Hundreds of them!"

The computer can also play sounds, in this case we have auto filters, so you won't die while doing homework."

"I didn't know there were so many! What else can this computer do?"

"I can't believe that non-magicals could create something like this," exclaimed Claudine McTavish. The young Hufflenpuff was beside herself with excitement. To her, this couldn't be anything else _but_ magic.

"Advanced science may seem like magic, but it isn't," Alex said to all the students. He had everyone's attention even Draco and his little cabal looked thoughtful. Hermione looked furious and frustrated while Harry and Ron stood in sympathy next to the fuming bushy-haired young woman. "They will give you an idea how the non-magicals do things and how they have developed their society. The books on your desk 'Computers for Wizards' is especially modified for magical so that you can understand the basics of these devices, ones which will become very handy as we continue our classes."

"Welcome to the internet, students," Ceraine said. "Now everyone, grab your tablets on your desks and we will show you how to turn them on and how to use them.

* * *

Sybill Trelawney professor of Divination found herself a little more fearful than she expected. She was a naturally shy woman prone to bouts of prophetic utterances that she could never remember. Most people in the magical world recognized her gifts, but at the same time many of those same people derided her gifts. Those same people expected her to use her prophetic ability like one could operate a faucet, turning it on and off at will, and when she couldn't, they laughed behind her back. She couldn't control her ability and that caused her difficulties and, in many ways, ruined her social life. Albus was kind enough (and she was eternally grateful to him) to bring her in and have her teach divination theory. In the school she made friends. In many ways, these same professors became like family to her, which was a blessing because she honestly had no place to go.

Hogwarts was her home.

The new professors had invited her to their office for a spot of tea. It was a meet and greet as Professors Delane and Harris had described it. They were a strange but friendly sort and she found that she was comfortable whenever she was around them.

Today was the day that they all had decided that they would meet and get to know one another. However, navigating this part of the castle trying to find their office was difficult. The reason was because she couldn't see well. Her magic glasses helped, but only to a certain extent. Anything thirty feet more or further was simply a blur. The castle helped her move around, but it was still a challenge getting to her destinations. What she never suspected was that her 'gift' was active enough to allow her to get around despite her weak eyesight.

Finally, she reached the office. The door opened for her. Nervous but excited, she walked through the doorway. Interestingly, they allowed her in without specifically inviting her. What did they think she was, a vampire or something?

Harris gently grabbed her hand, keeping his shields up this time, and escorted the blushing woman inside. Alex, being a typical man, did a quick survey of the woman. If you could get passed the fizzed, uncontrolled hair, her horrid taste in clothing and her binocular- class eyewear, the woman was quite pretty.

She didn't have anyone to teach her how to take care of herself and bring out her natural beauty. In the old days, buffy Dawn and the others would have grabbed her, and she would have never been the same again. The same thing would have happened with Ceraine and her sisters.

That thought rough forth a moment's sadness. Ceraine's sister ascended as the family head and as such was required to marry. As close as she was with Alex, the laws of her people were clear. Mystical clan politics and family was–complex.

"Hello, professor, welcome to our office," Alex said, releasing her hand, thereby causing her to cease blushing. His mere touch was an intimacy she was unused to and really didn't know how to respond.

"Please call me Sybill," she responded.

The short time together was nice. Sybill loved the tea and the company. Alex had coffee and Ceraine hot chocolate, which Sybill tried and discovered that she liked it.

"Sybill," Ceraine said as she sat on the very comfortable (in Sybill's opinion) couch. "I wanted to ask you to consider a proposal. We know that you have a problem with your eyesight. Our instructors were very good at sight correction and we wanted to offer our help, if you wanted it."

The woman started fidgeting. Her eyesight was something that she was very sensitive about. "I've gone to the best healers." She smiled sadly. "They all said the same thing. They could fix my sight, but they would have to replace my eyes with magical ones. It was believed that if they did, my inner sight would never be the same. I-I couldn't have that. It's all I have."

"We couldn't consider doing anything like that," Alex responded as he wrapped her hand within his once more and kept his amusement to her reaction under control. "Is it okay if we can do a quick scan just to see if our techniques might work?"

Sybill was torn between running out of the room and allowing them to examine her. "Are you healers?" she asked.

"When it comes to matters of eyesight, we were trained quite well. My eye was gouged out by an enemy. My teacher grew it back without any problem. We learned a lot from him."

"Will it hurt?"

_What had people done to this woman?_ he asked himself. "No, I promise," he said.

Sybill's power flared. She could feel it as it searched his heart and that of Ceraine. She could feel their concern and compassion. They really wanted to be her friend! "Okay, you can try," she said slowly. "I hope you can find out what is wrong at least. That would help so much. At least, I'd know.""

"Relax, Sybill," Ceraine told her. Xander took his wand in his other hand and the tip glowed and that was the last thing she knew as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Ceraine's and Alex's amulets opened, and the mystic eyes were released. The eyes glowed with power, saturating the room as both eyes rose up and attached themselves to each of their foreheads. The eyes of Agamotto peered deep into the ocular systems of the seer.

"Cataracts," Alex exclaimed in surprise. "I thought they had a cure for this!"

"She also has an inflammation of the optical nerves as well," added Ceraine. "She had a bacterial infection when she was young. The infection is over but there was damage done. I can heal and rebuild the nerves. Will you do the cataracts?"

"Got it," he answered as he sat place his wand on the desk and channeled his mystic powers for the procedure. Having Steven Strange's memories after images were very convenient. "she'll be out for a couple of hours. Let's do it. What about her hair?"

"That's a lady's prerogative," chided Ceraine. "We'll ask her later. We will offer our help. Let us build up our mutual trust first. That's what friends are for, after all."

_**Abindraz, Bulgaria**_

The small magical town hadn't known it was under siege for several days, didn't know it until last night. The people would have known if they had looked in the direction of the closest town less than ten miles from their warded protectorate. There was something there, something unnatural that killed people and animals indiscriminately. The warnings had gone out, the people alerted that something was terribly wrong. Whatever it was that was killing the people was unnatural.

They didn't bother with the authorities. They got out of town.

The magical community would have been warned of the danger, but they were isolationists. They cared little for the affairs of the non-magical folks and so, they never received the warnings. Now, it was far too late.

Nikolin Sindelic couldn't apparate. There was a force that stopped him and every other witch and wizard in the town, effectively trapping them. No one knew who died first. But that second night was the stuff of every nightmare he'd ever imagine. When he finally saw what was killing them, he almost went mad. It was like nothing he could imagine. It had no definitive shape, but he did know it had a mass of tentacle-like extensions that latched on and killed.

The older wizard was the last survivor.

To his credit he had grabbed the only survivor, his son, and ran as fast as he could, blasting the creature with every lethal spell he had ever learned. It didn't seem to affect the monster that quickly overtook him. The monster snatched his son from his arms and fed on the screaming baby.

To his horror, he stood, frozen at the sight. The bloated abomination finished its tiny victim quickly and dropped his son like a piece of garbage. Then it looked at him. It had no eyes but he knew it 'saw' him and it hungered. Then it moved towards him.

To his shame he never looked back as he ran for his life. The monster overtook him just before Nikolin fired off his killing curse. The monster stopped for an instant as if tasting the magic. Then it moved for the man could turn to run.

Tentacles latched on to the screaming man's arms, torso and legs. Other appendages latched on to his back and neck. Suction cup-like organelles ripped into the man's body, excreting powerful anti-coagulants while draining the man of his blood and lymph fluids. More appendages tore into his body attaching themselves to his liver, lungs and heart and greedily sucked every bit of fluid that its victim had. A minute later of slow feasting, it crushed the corpse in its efforts to get the last drops of fluid.

Finished, the creature discarded the dried corpse and moved to an abandoned barn where it could rest after its feeding and escape the burning star of this world.

The K'sjansx had fed well. There was nothing left alive in the village. The magical energies and fluids of the people here were satisfying, not as good as the prey in the Dark Dimension, but it was nourishment enough. Now, the mystical vampire entity would rest and propagate. There would be plenty of nourishment to satisfy itself and its progeny.

The remains of the victims slowly dissolved in the morning sun as the injected poison did its job. Having the remains of victims lying around discouraged the presence of new prey…


	13. MX13

7

_**Master Xander **_

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

**Weasley Burrow**

Arthur Weasley was beaming at his friend Alex as he stepped through the threshold of Weasley Burrow carrying a small package. Molly was next to her husband, grabbing the man in a bearhug that would have made Dawn proud. Neither Alex nor Ceraine had visited the home since classes started. Alex had become a fixture at their home, although it hadn't been that long since he last visited, the Weasleys still missed him at the dinner table.

"Come in, come in!" greeted Arthur as he gently pushed the man into his home. "Sit down and relax. I know you must be exhausted with your classes at Hogwarts and your other responsibilities. I imagine those little sprites are running you a lively course," he said as both sat down on the couch.

Molly returned from the kitchen carrying a snifter of fire whiskey and some small snacks. "Yes, please tell us how the classes are going!"

Alex thanked her for the glass and took a sip. The drink went down smooth just before he burped. A tiny burst of flame came out of his nose, making him laugh. He wasn't a drinker by any means. The effects of alcohol had on his parents, particularly his father, ensured that he would never really indulge. That didn't mean he wouldn't touch the stuff, just that he was careful. Besides, his instructors in the Mystic Arts frowned on alcohol or drugs that impaired the senses as it was a danger to both the magic users and those around them. But socially, he wouldn't insult someone by outright rejecting a drink offered by good friends in their own home. The Weasleys were also aware of Alex's hesitance in drinking and never pushed it. He once explained to them that his magic sprung from a different source and therefore alcohol affected him differently and he always needed to be careful.

To the Weasleys, that excuse sounded suspect, but they honored his wishes for the most part. They knew something of his background and understood his reluctance.

"Where's Ceraine? Is she coming?"

"No, she and a friend are off to London for a shopping trip," explained a slightly hysterical Alex.

There was a part of him wanted to see what was happening on Ceraine and Sybill's shopping excursion, but his other half knew that it would be any man's nightmare. Sybill of course, was initially terrified of going to no-mage land, having rarely, if ever, gone there before. But for some reason, she said yes and off they'd gone. Alex couldn't help but be pleased that the woman trusted them enough to agree to go. With her improved eyesight, she could see things now. Alex knew that trip was going to be a trip.

"Too bad she couldn't come, but let's get straight to the point," Molly said after gulping her drink down. "How are the classes going? They're not giving you too much trouble, are they?" she asked. "I know the twins are in your class and as you know they are quite a handful."

"Well, let's see," Alex started. "Hogwarts is an amazing school in its way, and I can say that the students are very well behaved in front of the professors." He smiled. "Kids will be kids. But we haven't had a problem with them. That includes the twins. They're taking everything in, and I think after this class is over, they'll be at another level of pranking. And you know, that scares me!" he laughed. "The good thing for Ceraine and I is that the classes are twice a week. It gives us a little time to do what we need to do at the store and other thing," he added. "I wish we had started the classes earlier. As it is, we're playing catchup."

The conversation continued for another half hour before the subject changed to something darker.

Arthur turned serious. "There's been some talk in the Ministry about your classes. Nothing serious yet, but there are a few that have taken an interest in your classes. You are still under the table, but I can see it in the wind. A few of them are coming for you and they are not your friends." He took a long sip of his drink. "These same people know that we are friends," he added. "They are speaking to me as if they are my friends. Before, they barely acknowledged my existence before."

"Some are just curious," Alex told him. "Some are probing you for information. I don't think they're targeting you for serious information yet. But you do need to be careful from now on. Some of them are prejudice against non-magical folks, and my class is triggering those prejudices. I don't think it's on their radar, er, their focus yet. The upcoming Tri-wizard tournament and the recent Death Eater attacks are on everyone's mind right now. My class is a minor nuisance they know little about. And consider that these classes have always been taught at the school. Just keep a watchful eye out."

"Worry not friend, I will," Arthur said with all seriousness. "But that's getting away from our conversation. How is the class coming? What are they studying?" He practically demanded Alex to spill the information, being so excited.

"Well, I have started with the computers and the related electronics." He smiled mischievously, enjoying the chaos he was sewing among the little witches and wizards. "I knew that the students would love them once they got used to them, which took all of two days. They took to the tablets like ducks to water. I had kids who had never even seen any sort of electronic device grab onto them like they were lifelines or long-lost lovers. Several times, I had to emphasize the rules that nothing in the class was to be taken outside of the class and that went over _really_ well," he added with as much sarcasm as he could manage. "You should have heard the arguments and screaming. A lot of them are visiting me after regular classes just to use them. They've already started throwing out informational tidbits and adding to several of the other classes. A couple of teachers have expressed serious interests in learning where they've gotten their information from. One professor, Madame Sprout, wanted some of my students to write a report the numerous species of Mandrakes and their much rarer cousins, the _Viticullum Manralls_ plants. Professor Pomfrey has shown an interest in no-mage medicines and Native American magical medicine. All the instructors, apart from one whose name I will not mention, have come to me and asked how my students are getting their information and so much of it." Then he began chuckling. He quickly recovered and took a sip of his drink. "Do you know that Cutthroat Binns actually visited one of my class sessions?"

"Merlin!" gasped Molly. "He's the magical history teacher. Is he still floating around digging in his nose when he speaks of the Colonial Rebellion and how the colonist tried to cut off his ears just because he had the nerve to sink a few of their merchant ships?" she smirked at the memory. "I remember that much about the class."

Cutthroat was an instructor when she attended Hogwarts (back in the ancient days when her parents had money for tuition). She remembered his voice putting her to sleep the moment he opened his mouth. How she passed that class, she never knew. "He's never shown any interest in learning anything new as far as I remember."

"Well, he visited and had a heart attack that would have killed him, if he wasn't already dead," Alex deadpanned. "As it is, the shock was too much. He's slowly fading, moving on. You can see it happening. I think, he'll be gone in less than a month."

"The poor man."

"You mean 'the poor ghost'," corrected Alex. "They're all trapped here, for one reason or another." He looked them in the eyes for a moment before speaking. "There's a reason why everything moves on."

"Alex, we're off point. I'd like to know what you're teaching in the class!" Arthur exclaimed. "You're torturing me!"

"Husband! Be quiet! Let the man get to it."

"Sorry," Alex told him. "First, how do you like the flip phone I gave you?"

"It's wonderful," he exclaimed. "Molly and I don't have many people to talk to other than you and Miss. Delane, but it is amazing!"

"It was really great for its time." They didn't know it yet, but soon they'll feel like those flip-phones were glued to their ears. Harris hadn't given him a more advanced phone because he fully expected Arthur to break the flip in his covert examinations. But he hadn't so Harris judged him able to take the next step. "I have something for you." He pulled out a ten-inch tablet. "This is for you."

Arthur stared at it in awe, bordering on lust. "This looks like a bigger version of your flat-phone!"

"Smart-phone," Alex Corrected. "But this is a warded computer tablet. Portable, so you can carry it around with you, but I strongly recommend you keep it in the house."

"Arthur looked at the flat device and found the button and turned it on. "What can it do?"

"Call it an information center, a small version of what you've seen at my home. Everything you want to know about, you can find it on this device. It does everything that your phones can do, but a lot more. It has information gained from two worlds and the future by about forty-plus years that this world will never know. It is connected to my home system. It holds information both non-magical and magical, and it's yours and Molly's only. The tablet will not work for anyone else unless I change the security mode. It is run like your phone, so it needs to be recharged. The recharge unit that your phone uses is the same that your phone uses. The charger is magically connected to my home since you don't have electricity here."

"We will have it one day," Arthur retorted. "One day."

"Good. The booklet will give you the basics, and from there you're off. All you will have to do is speak to it and learn how to type a little."

"Thank you," he whispered. "I will treat this as the treasure it is."

"Oh no, what have you done? I'll never see my husband again!" Molly lamented.

"You can use it, too, Molly," smiled Alex. "I want you to bring it when you come to my next meeting at my house. There are some developments you need to know about and a few people you'll want to meet?"

"We'll be there," they promised. "This is serious, isn't it?"

"Yes. It has to do with the portals that are opening. Something new came through. We don't know where it, or them are, but we're closing in on its location. My people will be there, and the goblin representatives as well."

Both Weasleys paled. "Goblins?"

Alex nodded. "There is a lot to tell you. This will affect your world and you need to know what's happening."

Both looked worried. "We're only one family with children. Why are we the ones picked for this?"

Alex smiled, but it was a sad 'sorry about this' kind of smile. "By the mere fact that you met me, you were pulled into this. You can't remain ignorant about the things surrounding you, just like you can't ignore your dark wizard self-proclaimed lord. Once you know, you're not the type to turn your backs. I know that and so does Dumbledore."

"And speaking about him, have you invited the headmaster to the meeting?"

Alex shook his head.

There were some things the old wizard didn't need to know, and Alex had to filter out information. He respected the old man, but Albus reminded him too much of the Mayor, just without the evil intent. Albus was at heart, a controlling manipulative individual and this made Alex cautious.

He judged Dumbledore to be an ally, but an ally with a few too many hidden agendas that smacked of desperation. If they were to work together, they'd need more time to develop a working relationship. And the way he seemed to manipulate the Potter kid irked him. There was something about the boy that Dumbledore needed from him, and it smacked too much of the old council's way to suit him. It was almost like he was shaping the boy to become a future weapon. Dumbledore also had his own problems to deal with. The terrorists and the tournament and his secrets were enough for him to deal with right now.

"No. I will talk to him," responded Alex. "Changing the subject now, let's talk about Ronald and his friends."

"You mean Hermione and Harry? How are they doing?"

"They're doing fine for the most part. I think I am going to work with them a little. Ron has a temper problem that I am asking you permission to help break. He's smarter than he lets on, but his temper at this age will interfere with his common sense. Hermione is very smart but has little control when it comes to acquiring knowledge. Her need to know is overwhelming her, especially now as she matures. Knowledge without wisdom is very dangerous and Ceraine will work on her and so will I. Then there is Harry and his challenges.

"All of them are becoming young men and woman with all that that entails, and I don't want them to go through some of the crap I went through when I was their age. Except for Mrs. Summers, my friend's mother, our parents weren't there for us. In Herm's case, she's not been able to speak to her parents about her magical life. That must be hard. Ron has you, but you don't know what's going on in his life at school. Then there's Harry. I can see the stress in that boy. He's covering it up like I did when I was his age, but he will eventually blow up.

"Ron's temper needs tempering. Miss. Granger has great potential, and Ceraine and I will watch her. Harry is stressed but seems to be happy here at school, but I worry about those three. Dumbledore is either ignoring those signs coming from Harry, or he's ignorant of them. The stress could easily scar him for life. Trust me, I know. He will blow if things don't change soon. The boy has a gentle spirit, but it's being worn down. After the Tri-wizard tournament fever calms down, I think I'll put him on my list of things to do. I can see the abuse in his eyes. It's marked him. "I want you two to get a lot more involved with the three of them. They're teenagers and they will hate you for it until they mature enough to understand what you are doing. But treat them like the young adults not babies or they will fight you tooth and nail. That could make their adolescence worse."

"What do you mean 'abuse'?" a confused Molly asked.

Alex stared at them in surprise. They seemed to be intently listening until he said the word abuse, then they both looked lost for a moment. "You really don't know, do you?"

Both husband and wife gave him a blank look.

Alex stared at them for a couple of seconds. "May I try something?"

Now both parents stared at one another for a moment as realization hit them both. "Yes," they both said.

Alex nodded and placed his wand on the table. It wouldn't be needed. He began muttering in a language neither of the two knew of. The room brightened, and magical energies swirled around the room. The energies moved towards the couple and touched them as something like an eye that they couldn't quite see stared at them.

"Yeah, right," Harris muttered.

The light faded as both parents snapped out of a trance that neither knew they were in.

"Did you find anything?" Molly asked.


	14. Chapter fourteen

**Record keeping:** Chapters 13-16 are essential one large chapter that I've broken up. It's the reason why by themselves they may seem incomplete. But,. I want to keep the chapters shorter but i hope they will be interesting as we continue.

**Also, readers** may have noticed that I have not placed HP in the center of the action at this point. He's around the edges but that will change in the very near future as the Goblet of Fire arc commences.

**I will discuss** Ceraine's character in more detail. She is a Californian but not of the HP world or Xanders. She is also her world's version of a Slayer but very different frokm Alex's world.

**Thank you** very much for reading and on with the story. And of course, everyone please be well during these times...

_**Master Xander**_

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

_**Hogwarts**_

"Nice."

Alex had to admit that the old castle looked beautiful. The classrooms were in pristine condition and most of the rooms that Alex saw never looked better. As far as he could tell there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere, which was very impressive considering it was an ancient castle. The house-elves had outdone themselves in preparation for the visitors. He silently acknowledged their hard work, giving all the credit to the little creatures because he knew that the people here hadn't lifted a finger to help other than to delegate what went where. It was slavery, but the root core of their conditions was something else he would look into, and depending on what he found, he might or might not do something about it. The wizarding society was its own, and he planned to evaluate his own actions and the consequences before he jumped in and tried to change things outside her purview.

Those thoughts didn't stop him from anticipating the upcoming feast. The time for said feast hadn't quite arrived, but his stomach was doing battle with his logic. He could smell the different varieties of food that the little creatures had prepared and were in the process of finishing.

The ghosts floating around everywhere and with one exception, were speaking excitedly about the Tri-wizard contests of old, the past winners, and the prestige bestowed onto the school and the magical country in general.

Both professors watched the excited students waiting for the arrival of the two schools that were expected at any moment, Hogwarts students were looking out the castle windows, standing in the front of the castle and crowding the doors. There were even students hovering on their brooms, waiting to get the first glimpses of both schools whose arrivals were expected at the same time.

Both Alex and Ceraine were looking forward to what promised to be an amazing entrance. The magicals of this world relied on magic to the point that it was impossible for them _not_ to show off. Magic was so much a part of their nature, they didn't even notice it. Neither Alex's world nor Ceraine's utilize magic with such abandon. But it was part of their nature, part of who they were.

What they didn't understand was what that they were crippling themselves, being far too dependent on magic only for their very survival. As a whole, they didn't exercise. Most of them didn't know how to cook, relying on the help of their little servants. There was an almost purposeful ignorance of the outside, non-magical world. Without magic, many wizarding families would likely perish, most being unable to adapt to a non-magical existence unless they received help from the very people they loathed.

What was of greater concern was that, with few exceptions, they were slowly becoming sterile. This was especially true in magical Britain. The pure-blood mentality prevalent in most wizards and witches was hurting them badly. Their magic remained strong, but their genetic viability was faltering. Potions could do only so much in the long term. Even with the potions, overall fertility decreased every generation. New blood was not being introduced and inbreeding increased as magicals kept it in the families.

Voldemort's blood purity agenda was self-destructive and ultimately headed towards extinction, and both Americans suspected he knew it and didn't care. But the organization Alex and Ceraine were most concerned about was worse. This organization knew exactly what would happen and had factored into their agenda. They planned to protect a small group of magicals, specifically wand users, and create a ruling class that would ultimately rule this world with an iron fist.

The Vishanti would not have it. The entities Agamotto, Hoggoth, and Oshtur, the new Powers-That-Be, replaced the old Powers-That-Were, or as Alexander c labeled them, The Useless Ones. Their incompetence and lack of concern for their champions and Earth in general, all in the name of balance, got them sacked by an even greater power. The Vishanti took their responsibilities very seriously, and Alex and dozens of others couldn't be happier.

* * *

Alex watched as Dumbledore almost danced around the main entrance to the school. The man was excited, happy, but if one knew what to look for one could see the aura of it of tension surrounding him. It was obvious that he was worried about something going wrong, and Alex understood his reasons.

The Death Eater's terrorist actions had soured most of the people of magical Britain. Most people pretended that what happened was all in the past and wouldn't repeat itself anytime soon. Others simply kept their mouths shut, afraid that if they thought about it too much, then something even worse might happen. The upcoming tournament would help the people to forget the terrible threats that were just beyond their doors. Alex also knew that Dumbledore was depending on this as a distraction, allowing him precious time to continue his preparations for the upcoming battle against his nemesis. What at he hadn't taken into account, was that the one called Murphy always had plans of its own.

Alex understood this as well because he would and was doing the same. Planning was critical in war; however, what Alex didn't approve of was the lengths the headmaster was willing to take his fight. Dumbledore's obsessive desire to keep his secrets close and tendencies to manipulate everyone around him was something that Alex did not approve of, especially when it came to Dumbledore resorting to using charms on his own people to keep them compliant.

Alex told Ceraine what was going on, on, and she was understandably livid. Ceraine, however, was more critical about his need for half-measures when it came to the war being waged against Voldemort.

On several occasions, the three of them had very robust and sometimes tense discussions about his near obsession with forgiveness of his adversaries. All three agreed that forgiveness was important but expecting these terrorists to see the errors of their ways and turn away from the darkness simply because it was the right thing to do was ludicrous thinking. These same people had butchered so many people both magical and non-magical that it was an affront to justice and to the people that died as well as their loved ones, to allow them their freedom if they had a chance of heart. Voldemort wouldn't change his ways and turn into the light, and Albus knew that.

It took several conversations, but Alex and Ceraine were finally able to discover his true motives. Dumbledore wanted to end the war with as few casualties as possible among the magicals. He wanted them to turn from their mischievous ways and turn back to the light–his favorite phrase. Albus wanted them back at their homes in peace and to start replenishing the community. Albus wanted the non-magicals to be left alone in peace, but he really didn't care as much for them, which wasn't a surprise. His concern was for his own people and Dumbledore wanted an ending of the war.

The headmaster had the same deep-seated mindset as the rest of the wizards and witches of his homeland. He wasn't a pure-blood racist like many others, but he did agree with some of their isolationist beliefs. And he was also concerned about the infertility that plagued the wizarding community. He plainly stated that his long-term plans involved his students marrying early and starting have as many children as possible, restocking the population. He recognized the need to add new blood, but his plans involved marriages into other magical communities, not the non-magicals. Only now, after repeated talks, was he just beginning to understand the need for universal breeding with non-magicals, but he wasn't there yet.

What he could not grasp was the concept that, with the exception of Voldemort, his people would not ultimately come embrace the light and because of this deep-seated belief, he strongly discouraged his own soldiers from killing, but only battle to incapacitate and capture. His insistence placed his people at a terrible disadvantage against an enemy more than willing to kill. Dumbledore refused to believe that those people couldn't be convinced with his words of compassion and tolerance.

Try convincing Tom using pretty worlds. Try convincing Umar. Try convincing Mephisto and his wild child using words.

Dumbledore didn't want blood on his hands, but he was willing to allow his own people to die so that he could maintain his conviction. In his mind, this approach was for the greater good of magical Britain. Deep down, he knew his approach was futile, but he was a stubborn man and his carefully crafted plans were a culmination of years of work.

The Weasleys were part of that plan.

Both Arthur and Molly had a very subtle notice-me-not charms placed on them and the rest of their family without their knowledge or consent. The charms on Molly and Arthur were design to encourage their parental attentions towards Harry Potter, but at the same time ignore some of the more obvious problems of the boy. They could see that he needed to eat better because he was so underweight when they first met him. But they virtually ignored the reasons why he was in such a condition. They saw the signs of abuse, but they ignored it in favor of helping him to become a loving member of _their_ family. The enchantments were also designed to affect their attitudes towards Ronald and Ginny when it came to Harry's situation. It caused them to miss little things that should have been obvious.

Alex could have nullified those influence charms as soon as he detected them but decided not to, at least not yet. First, he wanted to know why Dumbledore had placed the enchantments on them in the first place. Just as importantly, he wanted to understand why this young boy was so important to him.

First, there were the blood wards and now charms placed on people surrounding him. There was little doubt that Ron, Ginny, and possibly Hermione were under some type of charm or influencing potion as well. Ceraine would check them soon. Dumbledore need to control events around him were irresponsible. This approach would get his people killed unnecessarily. Now wasn't the time to explain it to him. However, Alex intended to confront him and give him the opportunity to remove the charms and spells on the Weasley clan and the children, or he would do it.

Both masters were drawn to the screams of excitement and awe. A carriage came into view, a flying one pulled by winged horses. Those were Pegasus horses, real ones, and they were beautiful!

On his world those flying horses were myths, likely extinct, or maybe hidden away like so many other things on his Earth and maybe it was best to keep those magnificent creatures hidden and safe, if they existed at all. Here he could see them, and it pleased him that things could still fill him with awe. They and the carriage they were pulling landed gently near the castle to an effervescent looking Hagrid jumping up and down in glee as he looked at the beautiful winged animals. But the excitement wasn't over yet.

There was what looked like a small boat-like object moving in the lake that caught everyone's attention. Seconds later, to Alex's surprise, he saw that the small vessel was in fact just the mast of a huge sailing vessel. It was in effect a magical submarine. The way these people used magic was impressive, he had to admit.

Alex expected that the passengers wouldn't officially enter the school for another hour since they were preparing for their big entrance. Alex and the other professors had a little time to finish preparations and get a quick snack from the house-elves.

* * *

Ceraine was sitting next to a beaming Sybill. The woman was dressed in her usual style, but there was one notable difference. Her glasses were different, more up to date, and Sybill loved them. She could see now without straining her eyes. Sybill turned to look at a smiling Ceraine.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Do you, if you have the time, want to go London shopping again next week?" It was clear she enjoyed her little outing. "I must confess that there are a few things that caught my eyes."

"I thought you were uncomfortable around the non-magicals," Ceraine gently chided.

The seer turned sharply. "Oh no, that was you, my dear. They are not that bad," she huffed. "Professor Delane, I'm rather surprised at you. You didn't seem to have prejudice against the muggle," she responded in an airy tone that reminded Ceraine of an upper-class Brit dismissing something they had said less than a week earlier. "I felt very comfortable around them but if you can, I would like to wear some muggle clothing so that I won't stand out that much like last time. Will you help me find something more muggle, I mean no-mage? Everyone kept looking at my style of dress. It looks fine to me but, you know how they are. They notice every little thing!"

"Of course, I'll help." Ceraine sat back in her chair, struggling to close her mouth. "I created a monster in only four hours," she muttered to herself.

Ceraine was about to say something to Alex when she abruptly stopped. He sat next to Professor Snape, and apparently some words had been quietly exchanged between the two. Severus looked angry. No, the man looked pissed. Alex said something else and Snape prepared to issue a blistering retort when Dumbledore quickly intervene. There were quiet, intense words exchanged and the potions professor closed his mouth and glared daggers at both Alex and Albus.

Whatever was said between the two, she was sure it was just the beginning of a very big blowup. She'd find out soon enough.

Seeing her staring at him, Snape turned and glared at her in contempt. She smiled darkly. Her eyes went dark brown and Snape quickly looked away. _That's right, little man. Be careful who you glare at._ She wasn't as tolerant as Alex was. And it was a shame, too. Severus was almost tolerable lately.

There was no more time for reflection as the event began. The students and their teacher had arrived. The students of Hogwarts dressed in their best robes and sitting according to their respective houses were besides themselves with excitement, as was to be expected. The headmaster was announcing the first of the Schools to enter the halls of Hogwarts. It was the Beauxbatons Academy School of Magic. All the students were young ladies of various ages dressed in identical, very elegant blue-gray suits with lovely matching berets. As they walked towards the front of the room, they threw magical flower pedals and other items into the room as they moved and petals were floating everywhere. Their headmaster was tall, very tall, almost Hagrid's height.

Ceraine was under the impression that this school had both female and male students. But these were all girls. She would look into the school a bit more later when she had the time.

Stealing a quick glance at the half giant, she saw him looking at the female headmaster. It looked like love at first sight. The woman was looking at Hagrid, too.

_How cute, really._ They matched somehow. Rough and elegance, both eyeing each other while trying not to look too hard. Ceraine decided to take an active interesting in seeing how this played out.

The entrance by the Durmstrang Institute was as different from the Beauxbatons students as night from day. First, they were all male, carrying an air of manly pride which was almost overwhelming as they generated magical sparks and flame from their staffs which they pounded on the floor with synchronous perfection. This was a proud school steeped in old European tradition. One of the students was elevated among the others, and everyone could see it. He was, in Alex's opinion, the 'lead jock'.

Viktor Krum was one of the greats, known worldwide for his athleticism of the game that the wizards and witches of this world loved so much–quidditch. The game was their equivalent of soccer and American football and basketball, but played with flying brooms while chasing a crazed ball thing.

Headmaster Igor Karkaroff immediately set off Alex's senses. the_ One Who Sees_ didn't like what he saw. He was aware that the school's approach to magic and its outright rejection of so-called muggle-born wizards and witches. Harris wasn't surprised at this, given the short lecture that Dumbledore had given him concerning the two schools. Both or the Americans had listened carefully to Albus's words. There were cultural norms that needed to be understood, and Alex and Ceraine didn't want to create an incident.

Karkaroff and Dumbledore warmly greeted each other. The Hogwarts professors nodded or gave quick greetings. The Durmstrang headmaster gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. When he looked at the two professor of no-mage studies and dismissed them. Alex didn't even try to pretend he missed the subtle slight.

However, there was no time to fume over it as Dumbledore had called for the students of Hogwarts to welcome the visitors in song. The hall rang with the sounds of harmonious young voices.

Situated around the corners of the massive main hall were dozens of reporters covering the momentous event, including one Miss. skeeter looking excited but very apprehensive with her floating quill recording everything on parchment.

She saw Alex and quickly averted her eyes.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Master Xander**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**'Threats revealed: Coming together **

**Part I**

_**Xander's Sanctum**_

Arthur and Molly Weasley enjoyed going to Alex's home located just outside of London. Both of them had gotten used to traveling by non-magical car as it felt comfortable while in muggle-land. The first few times felt so strange and exotic traveling by limo to Mister Harris' house, but it was necessary. Just because he could, Alex had taken them the long way so that they could see the sights.

Left to their own devices, they would have had difficulty trying to find the place for several reason.

Not only was Alex's home in a non-magical territory, but the Weasleys just weren't used to having to navigate anywhere outside of a magical community without appariting or using a portkey. The trip itself was only about a forty-five-minute trip, but to the two of them, it was exhausting!

There were so many things to see, so many people to look at, all doing muggle things! It was so different, almost incomprehensible.

It was frightening that those people lived their lives without a thought of magic to help them in their everyday lives. It was a shock to their systems at first. Now the two of them were used to it, and Molly even expressed a desire to walk around in the heart of London just to look at the sights. Arthur couldn't believe his ears. His beloved had never, ever even thought of doing such a thing until Alex came into their lives.

The Harris home, like the store, was apparition-proof. His home, however, was even more secured than the store. No witch or wizard could apparate without permission within two blocks of Sanctum Santorum de Harris, as he liked to call it. The home was only magically accessible through Alex's portal. Again, this wasn't unusual, but the method used was strange.

Unless the Americans allowed entry by that magical portal they used so often, then that left getting there the non-magical way, by foot or non-magical transport.

Getting out of the car and thanking their driver James for the pleasant ride, the couple climbed the stairs and ranged the doorbell. Seconds later, the door opened and once again; they stepped into a magical world different from what they were so used to. It was as if they stepped into another world full of strange magic and mystery.

The rooms were larger than they should have been. That was normal in wizarding society. The abundance of non-magical furniture and fine craftsmanship wasn't a surprise given Alex's tastes. But it was the multitudes of different magical creatures that always surprised the visiting couple. Alex and Ceraine never called them creatures and always treated them as equals, and that took a while for the couple to get used to. Molly had more difficulty accepting them as just people and truth be told, she was still had a hard time. But no one could say that she wasn't trying to deal with this strange reality that was Alexander Harris and Ceraine Delane, the Americans from other worlds.

The fairies and the many _kinds_ of fae creatures loved this home. Their magical essence brought a sense of nature and ancient powers that added to the unique feel of the home. Not even Hogwarts felt this enhanced.

For all intents and purposes, Hogwarts was nothing less than a magical fortress, and it wasn't the only one. Few places in magical Britain could compare to it Several of the ancient and powerful families had wards and protections that all but guaranteed that their homes protected against their enemies and other undesirables for centuries. However, these places didn't come close to the Hogwarts school. The House of Black was a good example.

But Alex's and Ceraine's home was different.

Other-worldly magic filled and protected their home, and it always gave the couple a sense of awe and feelings of protection when they entered this place of sanctuary.

These same magical creatures were not found anywhere in in magical England, not anymore, and the other fair folk, Arthur couldn't even imagine what their names might be. They were of different sizes and shape, with most of them looking humanoid in form. The average witch or wizard, unless they read about them in some obscure or ancient book, wouldn't have imagined such creatures could exist, which was ironic considering the numbers of magical creatures running about. It was shameful how the Fae were forced to flee Europe. But if they hadn't left, a magical war worse than the Great Goblin War would have erupted. Arthur didn't want to imagine the resulting devastation, and if the Fae had joined the goblins against the witches and wizards…

Speaking of which, if their eyes didn't deceive them, there were two goblins speaking to two of the fairies and they weren't alone.

There were people here, likely no-mages (or no-mags depending on which part of the world you lived in), freely moving among the normally shy fae all eating and drinking and having a good time. And there was Ceraine moving among the guests. Seeing Molly and Arthur, she hugged them and began introducing them to the others in the room.

"I'm glad you could make it." She ushered them towards the food trays that the fairies were serving. "The Lichen Fae love serving and insisted so we couldn't refuse. But a warning. If you try forcing them, then be prepared for a fight." In that they differed from the elves that bounded themselves to wizarding families.

"This is an important gathering. Is Dumbledore coming?" Molly asked.

"No. He has other things to concern him, plus there are things you need to know. We will speak about that later and we'll talk to him and let him know the essentials. By the way, has he spoken to you yet?"

"No, he hasn't," Arthur told her. "What should he talk to us about?"

"We'll talk after this is over," Ceraine promised.

Everyone turned their attention to Alex, who had just entered the room. Everyone quickly took their seats in the semi-circle. Many of the fairies simply hovered or took seats next to those Fae who were already sitting, including one very uncomfortable male trying his best to blend in with the other more seemingly. non-magical people in the room.

* * *

Anthony Stokes _was_ uncomfortable, surrounded by people and creatures of myth. Her Majesty's government had intercepted rumors of unusual happenstances occurring in a suburb just outside London and began investigating. Dozens of murders and terrorist activities in the last two years occurred without any discernable patterns or reason had caught their attention.

Extensive interview with eye-witnesses turned out to be an exercise in futility. None of them remembered anything. It was frustrating to all concerned, including the witness who seemed to have a piece of their memories erased by unknown means.

The mounting evidence strongly suggested that an unknown organization with an unknown agenda was preparing for something big. Discrete references about the presence of advanced cellphones was very little to go on but his people were thorough when running down leads and one of those leads led to one Alexander Harris and one Ceraine Delane, recent American emigrants.

Upon further investigation, their bank accounts were impressive, but they lived in a more than modest home in a rather affluent neighborhood. Their bills were paid on time, but no trace of observable income was identified. Their neighbors knew very little about them. The two rarely left their home, and when they did, their tails lost them. It wasn't much to go on, but it was enough to warrant further investigation. Quiet entry into the home proved impossible. The doors, windows, resisted every known technique. The inability to gain entry into the home was something that the Research Division had taken an interest in.

That in and of itself raised their suspicions.

A break came when agents noted that the Americans were preparing for some type of party. MI-6 decided to crash the engagement. Hence Stokes' predicament.

There were fifteen agents ready to storm the home with heavy weapons if things went sour. Being Stokes, he went up the stairs and rang the bell. A young woman opened the door, looked at him and flashed a dazzling smile at him. She allowed him entry without him even having to introduce himself. For a secured place, this lapse was unconceivable in his eyes. For a moment he was convinced this was a trap.

Then he stepped inside, and his mouth dropped open.

The room was impossibly huge, but that wasn't the most shocking thing. There were creatures here, things of myth and legend interacting with each other in a most casual manner that set his teeth on edge. He nearly pulled his gun when a small fairy flew up and asked him if he wanted a drink. "

"Scotch on the rocks with a twist of lime," he told the tiny, but exquisite creature. _Madness_! he thought as he moved into the room, trying to be innocuous as possible.

The man felt completely out of his depth. _What had he stumbled into_?

"Having fun. Mister Anthony Stokes of MI-6?" Ms. Delane asked.

Anthony hadn't even seen her, and it rattled. Being in this place for only a couple of minutes had thrown him off his game, a problem he would correct. His cover was completely blown, so there was no use pretending. "It's most interesting, Ms. Delane," he answered her without missing a beat.

Ceraine beamed and honored him with an elegant curtsy. Her antics didn't fool him. He looked as delicate as a flower, had the grace of a ballerina, and the strength of a tank all in a very attractive package. In short, she was a very dangerous woman.

"I'm very glad you made it," she told him in no uncertain terms. "We've dropped hints in your direction almost seven months now. I almost believed that we should have called your people. Maybe we should have made an appointment with your boss."

Again, she'd surprised him. This woman knew she was being watched and who was doing it and had planted clues for them to follow. "That might have been easier on our agents," the man deadpanned. "We had a devil of a time keeping track of you." He paused. "Can I use the word devil in this place?"

She waved him off. "That's an entirely different group," she answered with all due seriousness. "To answer your question, we preferred that you work for it. It kept you interested and gave your people a hint of how serious this is without being obtrusive. Furthermore, you needed to come to us, not the other way around. You needed a reason, although trying to break into my home was a bit much when you could have just rung."

"One never knows what will happen when one just ring," he countered as he gazed at the–people in the room.

"True," she admitted. "Sometimes the direct approach can lead to a whole new world."

Anthony looked around. "I can see that." He looked around some more, his gray eyes missing nothing. "Since you destroyed my carefully prepared alias, I believe you owe me an explanation for all of this."

Ceraine looked thoughtful. "That seems fair, since that's the reason you're here in the first place."

"Good. it's nice to have cooperation," he answered. "First, what is this place and exactly who are you?"

"This place is my home," she answered. "Think of it as a fledging embassy, unofficial but not for long." Her dark brown eyes turned even darker as he stared into them. They were like bottomless pits, so deep one could fall in and never climb out. "I am Ceraine Delane, owner of _Xander's Magic Shop and Curiosities_. This place is…call it a meeting place for now."

"Giving what I'm seeing right now, I assume this is a place for magical creatures," Anthony slowly answered. "I would have never believed it if I wasn't looking at it right now."

"Not creatures," she corrected. "They're different kinds of people who have been on this planet as long as humanity. And that's the point as to why we let you in the front door. They are beginning to believe that mankind is almost ready to accept them and treat them as equals. We're not there yet, but we believe that small steps like this can start the process. The rest of your half a million questions will be answered later, after this is over and the real work begins. after all, when mankind begins to explore space and meet aliens for the first time, how will we explain that we couldn't even get along with intelligent life forms on our one planet? Something to think about, Mister Stokes."

Anthony stared at Ceraine, trying to see if she was telling him the truth. She stared back. Finally, he turned his gaze towards the others in the room. "I'm looking forward to our little talk," he told her. "But I have one question that I'd like answered now."

"And that is?"

"How is this room so huge?" he asked as he waved his arms around. "Is this an illusion or is it real and this is some kind of," he groped for the right words, "spatial compression, beyond the laws of current science?" He stepped back a bit as his drink arrived as well as to process what he'd just said. The tiny fairy's wings fluttered quickly as she carried a huge tray with his drink. He graciously accepted, not playing to the absurdity of the situation. "Is this real?"

Once more Ceraine's demeanor returned to the delicate flower she wasn't. "Yes, it's real. Explaining it from a scientific perspective, it would be defined as spatial compression. As for myself, this isn't sufficiently advanced science pretending that its magic. This _is_ magic. and I would classify this room as being dimensionally transcendental. Meaning that it's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside."

"Of course it does," Stokes answered with absolute sincerity. "Magic?"

"Magic," she answered. "Walk around, mingle," she said. "There is something new being born, and it's beginning right now. I do believe Britain should be in on it."

"That would be wise."

"I think so, too," she whispered with equal intensity. "Please excuse me. I have to introduce some of our other guest to one another. Oh, and find a seat, we'll be getting started soon."

* * *

Alexander 'Xander' Lavelle Harris moved around the room, introducing several of his guests to others and generally making sure they were comfortable. This official meet and greet was important, and it demanded that things start off on the right path. Several of the invited guests were meeting one another outside the field of battle for the first time. Several of the magicals still harbored ancient feuds which were never fully resolved, and Alex wanted to make sure that fights didn't break out in his home.

Surprisingly, his guests were relatively civil towards one another, not wanting to offend their host. Both Alex and Ceraine had invested considerable time and effort cultivating relationships between these various groups and many of them would feel dishonored in front of the others if something were to happen in the sanctum of two of the more powerful magic users on the planet.

Dinner was served, and everyone seemed to enjoy the preparations. There were specialty dishes from several of the cultures served. The cross-talk between the guests was lively. Sometimes it turned heated, but not to the point of coming to blows. Stokes participated a little but basically kept to himself or tried to initiate quiet conversations with people he believed were closer to what he considered normal. One of the goblin females present took an interest in him, which made Alex use his impressive willpower to keep from smirking in the man's face. It was well known that throughout history there were references about liaisons between humans and goblins. Stokes merely looked impassively at Alex as if this was the most normal thing in the world. He entertained the goblinas (as he thought of her and would continue to do so until he discovered the correct name).

With dinner over, the tables were cleared, and the people were ready to start. Several of the fairies who volunteered to act as retainers quickly did their jobs, informing the guests that carry-outs were available upon request. That met with quiet murmurs and small nods of approval.

Once the room cleared, Alex and Ceraine pulled out their wands and transfigured the hall from a dining room into a massive conference center much to the surprise of several of the guests much to the surprise of several of them who weren't used to such displays of magic at that level.

Stokes silently acknowledged that he was out of his death. Watching chairs being transfigured for the various guests, from the smallest four-inch fairy to the regular-sized humans was suitably impressive as the man mentally catalogued everything he witnessed.

Ceraine looked at a discombobulated Stokes and mouthed the word, "magic."

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

_**Master Alexander **_

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

_**The meeting**_

_**part 1**_

_**Sanctum Sanctorum de Harris **_

Sitting at the head of the table, an immaculately dressed Harris, his cape draping itself on the chair of its own volition as it got comfortable, began his opening statements.

"To my friends and guests, thank you honoring us and taking the time to come my home. I understand that some of you are suspicious and feel uncomfortable sitting next to those who are your traditional enemies. I know that several nations represented here have come to blows in the past and that these disagreements cannot be dismissed or solved at this meeting. That isn't our intention. That is something you have to do yourselves and if you are willing I and others will offer our services to become mediators of your disputes if we are successful today. However, our primary reason for this gathering is to discuss the future of the magical peoples, clans, and cultures of the world and decide if we want to unite to deal with the threat the enemy represents.

"I asked all of you here so that we can discuss and share our knowledge about what is happening in the world today. I know that trust has to be earned and even the simple act of sharing knowledge can be difficult between adversaries. Respect has to be earned and someone has to be the first to step up. Therefore, Miss. Delane and I intend to do so now.

"No lies, no half-truths, and yes a few secrets kept, but always the truths. I recognize that we Humans haven't been kind to those different from us. But none of us are perfect. None of us in this room can claim to be righteous when dealing with our own kind, or with others we don't like us. I'm not asking you to become friends, but I ask that we start with small steps. We will learn to respect each other. If we can do this, then we can start to form alliances. I'm saying this because the simple is that we need each other, we need to find common ground because we are fighting common enemies, planning to ruin this world and remake it into their own images. We can't allow them to continue unchallenged. Time is short, and our enemies, both from within and from without, are organized, well prepared and becoming bolder. The evidence we all have is pointing that fact out for all of us to see."

Alex's tone remained somber as he continued speaking. "I want to introduce you to good two friends of mine, Molly and Arthur Weasley. They're just a wizard family who heard what was happening and chose to step up of their own free will.

"Ceraine and I shared some of the information you're about to hear. They are aware of some of the dangers we face and are still willing to step up and will do what needs done to protect their family and friends. Are they afraid? Yes, they're like everyone in this room. I know because you are all here, listening to me. For those who are confused and need clarification, well, that's why we're here."

Using his wand Jessie, he conjured a detailed three-dimensional image above the table of Earth. He didn't need to use his girl, but she became irritated if he didn't use her occasionally. Jessie was like that. Besides, she served another purpose as a cover. Most people assumed he was a wizard and he didn't see a reason not to encourage this assumption.

Everyone stared intently at the image, including the British agent. Stokes was impressed by the quality of the image and at the same time curios and alarmed at the abilities shown by Alex and others in the room.

"As you look at the globe, it reveals locations of three-dimensional breeches that occurred within the last two years." There were quick images of horrifying, utterly alien entities, the same ones killed by the two sorcerers. "These entities are no longer threats. Now, as some of you know and the rest are about to find out," he said while locking eyes with a stone-faced Anthony Stokes, "the worst incident occurred in Russia.

"We were able to contain most of the damage, but a lot of people were poisoned by the entity before we could contain and eliminate it. This creature is best described as a plague entity, from one of dozens of dimensions that are the antithesis to life on this world. The beings of this dimension are not mindless beasts. They are intelligent entities whose purpose is to kill anything they come into contact with. They were bred for this purpose, being used as infiltrators to soften up their master's enemies. These entities enjoy killing and feeding off the death they cause."

"And you know this how," Stokes asked.

"Lots of reading," was Alex's unenlightening response, much to Stokes' chagrin.

"I estimated approximately eight hundred people died before we finished it and neutralized the toxins it had spread across the area. Those numbers don't include plant and animal life in the area." Alex's eyes were filled with regret for those he wasn't able to save. "Normally, word of the incident would have gotten out, but there were two factors that prevented a worldwide panic. First, we killed the thing before it could spread its poisons further than it did, so the damage was confined to a small area, no more than six square miles square.

"The second reason was that the Russians nuked the area. They were justifiably frightened, but what frightened them more was that word would have gotten out that their land was poisoned by factions unknown. The blame would have fallen on them. The Russian government doesn't do humiliation well. They didn't bother to investigate, they simply acted. The people we saved from that creature didn't live long. They were killed in the five-kiloton detonation," he added. The bitterness at the debacle was evident in his voice. "The Russians nuked the region without bothering to check the status of the people before they did it. The government was more concerned about the inconvenience than its people."

The Weasleys and a few others were unaware of that incident. Arthur wondered what nuked meant. Whatever it was sounded bad and he resolved to look it up on his tablet when they returned home.

* * *

Anthony's eyes narrowed as he listened. MI-6 had heard rumors of a nuclear incident in Russia, but MI-6 was never able to determine exactly what happened.

Satellites were an unreliable source of information. In the last twenty years, the space program suffered a series of failures and was on the verge of stalling. Few satellites were successfully launched and in orbit. The Russians never leaked what really happened.

This was critical information. Stokes current mission was turning out to be a veritable fountain of information. Of course, everything would be cross checked and analyzed to the best of Crown's capability. However, it fit what his people had heard from various but unconfirmed rumors.

* * *

Alex looked disgusted. "Their cover story was ludicrous, but they're sticking to it. They don't want the truth getting out even though they are unsure of exactly what that truth really is. Fortunately, in this case, their obsession with secrecy worked in our favor."

One of the people, a man named Jon Petrie, began to explain to the others.

"The Russian government is obsessed with secrecy. It has to maintain absolute control of information. Without that control, their people would kick them out. For example, years ago an experiment by their government contaminated a small city with a nerve toxin, or radiation poisoning–we're not sure–killing thousands of people.

"Instead of acknowledging the accident, the next year they simply removed the name of the city off of the updated maps, Officially, it never existed. Officially, they never mentioned the city again. As we said, Russian paranoia worked in our favor and the Secrecy Acts act isn't broken. The American and British Ministries aren't aware."

"And that is good because we don't need them getting in the way," Delane added. "The Statute works in our favor for now, but it will be a hindrance when this comes out int the open. That statute was good for the times as it used as a set of guidelines. Now that it's a law, the faults are glaring. It works for the wizarding world but effectively stifles everyone else, and that's something else that will need to be addressed."

"For the future, everyone," Alex said, returning to the original subject. "We are in the process of finding exactly when and where the latest breech occurred and what came out of it."

"I only see three openings and I know you told me there were four," one of the goblins said. "Have you discovered the location of the latest breech?"

"No, Master Clawfoot. I don't have the exact location yet. We have a general location but nothing specific. We do know that the breech was opened for about four seconds. We don't know how many came through or what they are. We're searching now and will deal with it or them as soon as we identify the breech location. Whatever entered this world is keeping a low profile." Alex stared at the globe. "We will find them, identify them, ascertain their threat level and eliminate them accordingly. These invaders are from what we call hell dimensions and are rarely benign. They're also keeping a low profile and that is a bad sign.

The meeting continued for another hour with many of those present asking several questions, while others provided critical answers.

* * *

The conversation changed as James Ahija, a North American Sioux Native, began speaking.

"We, the True People of the Americas are united as we have never been before. Not since that fool Custer, are we this angry. Two months ago, my people lost contact with several villages of the Abenaki and the Dunne-Za tribes. At first, we thought nothing of it. They lived in secluded towns isolated in the mountains. It wasn't unusual for the tribes not to come to the towns to trade and get supplies, but there was nothing. We went to their small villages and found them slaughtered. Most of our magical people are not wand-users. Our magic comes from the animal spirits. We use their spirit energies, freely given, to generate our magic. Our people do not differentiate between those with the gifts passed on from our ancestors and those who do not. Both sides lived among each other without fear. This is one of the reasons why we believe that whole villages were slaughtered. A few villagers survived, the ancient and very young, but they were all obliviated. We have little hope for the old. Their memories were wiped clean." James clenched his fists in anger. "The elders are little more than newborns. They are functionally senile. The infants have no memories of their families or who and what they are. We can help them. The others we fear are lost. None of the survivors were spared. All of those with the gifts were killed. The magical inheritance of those two tribes is lost forever."

The tall, deeply tanned man clenched his teeth as he struggled to contain his anger. "The spirits of the animals great and small scream with the losses of their other halves. In spirit dreams they showed us wizards moving among the villagers, destroying any and everyone. We have had enough! I speak for the thirty-six united clans of the People, both magical and ungifted. We have lost enough!"

* * *

Several people representing enclaves from across the world told similar stories.

In every case, small and relatively isolated enclaves non-wand using magicals were attacked and either killed or obliviated. So far, only small groups were targeted, but soon that would change.

What was just as disturbing were the reports coming from the United States.

The Americans noticed a distinct lack of television and movies having anything to do with magic, or magical-based themes. Shows that had such content were drastically altered with the magical content removed, or the programs were canceled. Shows and movies in production suggesting such themes were halted and shut down and their money shunted to other more acceptable programming. Supernatural based horror movies were removed from public viewership and older movies suddenly disappeared.

Christian programming was curtailed, with broadcast stations refusing to broadcast and sponsors suddenly withdrawing their support. Anything having to do with supernatural, miracles, or magic of any kind was being systematically suppressed or attacked.

And that wasn't all.

Science-based programming was being suppressed. There were no sci-fi programs left on televisions and very few movies in production.

There would be no Star Trek, Star Wars, etc., on this world. This hadn't gone unnoticed by the general population and tensions were increasing across America as conspiracy theories were thrown out left and right.

America, to put it mildly, was upset

The space program suffered and was virtually shut down until the issues were resolved. Something was wrong. The American people and others across the world didn't have any answers and they didn't like it. Whatever this organization was, they were well-funded, well-organized and getting bolder and appeared intent on causing unrest, as well as suppressing certain elements across the world.

* * *

Yuriko Tanaga raised her hand. She was of the Kikan clan located near the city of Hokkaido, Japan. The fortyish year-old woman was a high-ranking member of an extended family that accessed magic from the forces of nature. Their magical cores functioned in a completely different (and therefore unacceptable according to some) manner.

"These assassins knew who are and where we lived although our enclaves are hidden from the outside world. My people were attacked by dozens of wand wizards. We fought them off and killed several of them, but not without casualties. The dead carried no identification, nothing that could lead back to their origin. Their wands were made in such a way that we could not trace them back to their creators. But this enemy made a mistake," Yuriko snarled. "Our two magics are similar, but there are differences in application. These differences allowed us to identify them and find their general location given time. We know that the organization bases are located in America and England. But our attackers were Japanese, so we know that there are enemy forces established in our country. How many bases there are, we do not know. But we have discovered their names. They call themselves the inheritors."

They now had a name to go with their faceless enemies.

* * *

The Jaish Fae clan originated in Germany. These small being's average size, about one inch in height, looked less human than many others. They possessed long, curved antennae, very angular faces and three pairs of curved wings. They were shy creatures with the ability to compress their sizes to less than an eighth of an inch and possessed the ability to become transparent. During this world's second world war, Thousands of their kind were killed by a wizard cabal from Bulgaria who used their remains as a source for potions and life-extending power enhancements. They were hunted by wizards and others and came close to extinction. Refining their talents, the Jarish used their abilities to remain unseen for decades.

Until recently, they were safe.

Tea of the Jarish clan was the next to speak. The female fairy had enlarged herself to the size of about four feet and the strain was obvious. She couldn't maintain that size for long. In an act of generosity two other fae of different species added a bit of power to her, and she smiled gratefully at them for the generosity. The gesture was a small one, but one that would be remembered.

Her black hair sparkled in the room's light and her triple pairs of wings, characteristic of her species, were folded around her body. Like many of her kind, she had antennae which moved in response to her mood. Arthur thought she was one of the most beautiful female creatures he had ever seen. When she spoke, musical tone filled the air.

"The evil wizards came after us. They discovered a way to detect us but could not see through our transparency magic. In spite, they burned much of the forest that is-was are our home. They cursed the forest for our kind, they claimed us to be an affront to nature. We fled the forests of our births. The pixies of our land, our wayward friends, were killed. The pixies fled but could not understand what was happening and were hunted down." The young fae began to cry. "The magic in their bodies is coveted by many magic users. We were forced to flee to the foreign land of our cousins for safety. We have no home. But now we must fight so that we may live."

Several of the Fae of different species rose into the air, all of them glowing with power.

"Beware!" they said in unison. "When we find them, there will be war. We will kill them all. The united fae have spoken!"

**TBC**


	17. MX 17

_**Maser Xander **_

_**Chapter 17**_

_**'The Meeting Part II**_

_**Sanctum Santorum de Harris**_

The aged goblin lifted his head, calling everyone's attention to him. Arthur Weasley knew that the creature was older than any goblin he had seen. Goblins lived longer than humans and wizards weren't really concerned about them as living beings as much as they were concerned about their magic and their money. The goblin war was a bitter, brutal affair and was something neither side had forgotten. Hostility was prominent on both sides, but the wizards had won the war. History was written by the victor and the wizards were content. The goblins were put in their place and all was right with the world. That didn't stop both sides from monitoring one another for signs of treachery.

In Alex's experience and training, the goblins of this world were a far cry from the savages he knew on his world. Those creatures were little more than murderous brutes, barbarians by any definition. In comparison, the goblins in this reality were downright civilized.

The younger goblin, Clawfoot, bowed his head as he helped his master stand. The aged goblin leader scoffed at being helped but didn't reject the assistance. A single female goblin bowed as the elder stood. Arthur noted that their females were rarely seen and for one to be here meant that she was royalty and someone to be respected.

Everyone's attention was now focused on him.

"I am Fanir Gringott, the twelfth to carry the name of the Great One. I carry his blood to this place in peace. May the blood of our enemies boil on the coals in the land of Aptau the Unclean!" Having said his somewhat disturbing greetings, his body snapped to attention. "I am the beating heart of the Clan Gringottaseir. As I stand here, I am witness to onetime enemies of the goblin people," he said, staring at the various fae in the room. All of them looked uncomfortable. But none of them drew their weapons.

"Long have our clans and the Fae been traditional enemies. We goblins are a proud people, a warrior race, passionate and dangerous. But we are not fools. Dangers from both within and without are all too real. The Dark Lord, the things coming through the breeches and these Inheritors, are threats we will not ignore. The humans know almost nothing of the struggle. Because of their ignorance, they are mostly useless. The wizards are less than useless. They cannot see what is in front of them and when they do, their leaders hide their heads in the mud to keep from seeing the truth," he spat. "I and my clan have listened and spoken to one another of the things you have told us, Master Alexander Harris. Three of the five great goblin clans will end our feud and aid the Fae, the wandless mages, and the humans." He sneered when using the word human, but that attitude was expected. It was better than him spitting every time he mentioned the word wizard.

Tea looked at her goblin counterpart, surprised at his words. She had only one question on her mind. "After thousands of years of conflict, why?"

The old goblin glared at the small Fae, but his anger wasn't directed at her. However, for the moment, he ignored her inquiry. There was another matter that needed addressing and it couldn't wait.

"Alexander Harris, what you do not know is that Gringoott, the _true_ Gnomes Hierarchy, and the Dwarf Convention which we only suspected still existed, were contacted by extra dimensional powers.

"Several human financial institutions were approached by a group representing a powerful legal organization looking for fresh markets, and they were interested in acquiring clients."

"Alex's face flushed as he realized what Fanir had just revealed. Everyone around him felt his anger and concern as he fought to regain control. Ceraine was little better as the very air around her grew colder. Her fists were clenched, and her eyes shown with suppressed power.

Stokes looked wary as he stared at both her and Alex. The brief flare of power was unmistakable. If he hadn't been looking at them, he would have missed it.

"That law firm-" began Alex.

"We know who they are, Master Harris," hissed Fanir Gringott. "We all felt the invasion by _this_ foreign entity. The goblin clans, the gnomes, and even the human Banking and legal institutions came together." The old goblin smiled, and it was a hideous one. "Even the wild clans joined us, and we fought, slaughtering those barristers and their protectors. It was a glorious battle." His eyes locked onto Alexander and then shifted to the Weasleys. "The statute of Secrecy? Ha! We sealed their entranceway. Our magics are powerful and we hate foreign invaders," he told everyone. "There is a reason why we are warriors. We also protect against invaders such as the evil that tried to gain access to this world. To all those here, listen well! There are rules and there are those who are not allowed to enter. One of these is the wolf, the ram and the hart!"

"The Wolfram and Hart Legal Agency," Ceraine explained to those who didn't know. "It is a very evil demonic multidimensional law firm."

"They are powerful," conceded Fanir. "But there are rules they cannot violate without the pain of death. Keeping them out is one of our purposes for existence." He glared at Alex in dark amusement. "You are not the only one who can detect breeches in this world, and you cannot do it alone. We goblins are warriors for a reason!" Fanir told him. "As for these other breeches…"

"That's why we're here," said Alex.

Arthur and Molly heard everything. They were horrified.

Dumbledore's Order was nothing like this.

"Does the Ministry know any of this?" Molly blurted out as she started at Arthur. He shrugged. If the Ministry knew, they wouldn't tell him anything. He knew the Ministry wouldn't tell him. He was too low in the hierarchy.

Molly turned to the senior goblin. "Does the Ministry know about this!?"

Gringott responded with a truly magnificent sneer. "Your Minister is still trying to figure out ways to steal my bank from us! What do you wizards care about the fate of the world?"

Molly stifled a tear. She felt the humiliation of the wizarding world fall onto her shoulders.

Fanir turned his attention back to Tea, who continued waiting patiently to hear his answer to her question. "Tea of Jarish, we do this because of enlightened self-interests. Better to work with you all than to fall prey to these wizards," the goblin spat.

* * *

Two hours later, most of the guests had left Alex's and Ceraine's home. There were promises made and oaths of cooperation sworn and pledges of information exchange. Another meeting was scheduled for next week and planning would begin to counter the Inheritors.

The goblins, the Fae, and the various magical human factions were preparing for the war not only against the Inheritors but also against the Death Eaters and their Master.

* * *

Anthony Stokes remained seated, digesting everything he'd seen and heard. The way the 'people' left the building was just as astounding as the people themselves. A few waited out the front door and he was sure that his fellow agents monitoring the entrance never saw a thing. Some left by what could only be described as portals. They just stepped through and were somewhere else. Some simply disappeared in sparkling lights. Only the husband and wife stayed and had retired to another room.

The agent was allowed to contact his people to assuage their fears and give a quick status update. The meeting was informative to say the least and now that it was over, his concerns only increased. Those simple acts of leaving proved how useless MI-6 security was against these people. he informed his superiors of factions in Britain, previously unknown ones, preparing for war His Majesty's Government didn't know of and were not prepared for. His service certainly would not be please. Just as concerning was the sheer magnitude of the problem extending far past the so-called magical elements of society and into the realm of Britain proper. These unknown groups were willing to consider working with the British Ministry only served to give a dark credence to everything he'd just heard. MI-6 was about to break out in a sweat to say the least.

His musings hadn't prevented him from noticing Harris focusing on him. "Mister Harris."

"Mister Brosnan," Alex smiled. "I'm sorry." Alex ignored the look of confusion and suspicion emanating from the man while he continued. "Sorry, you look so much like someone I knew of. We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Alexander Harris."

"I know, Mister Harris," Stokes said. "Strange, isn't. until two years ago, there are no records of you or Miss. Ceraine. Her Majesty's Secret Service found that rather odd."

Alex acknowledged the jab. Stokes wasn't being subtle, and Alex appreciated it. This meeting wasn't intended to be subtle and planned to return that directness. "Well, we weren't under your agency's radar until we started throwing out hints to gain your attention. I'm sure Ceraine mentioned that to you," Alex said. "Mister Stokes, your people are in a war you're just finding out about. You also have a number of citizens in your country that will start demanding their voices be heard. They've been secretive for obvious reasons, but that time is coming to an end. The problems are going to be legion, but better to get a head's up about the challenges now instead of being slapped in the face later."

"Well, you've certainly got our attention," he conceded. Agent Anthony Stokes looked at him for a long moment. Then he glanced at Ceraine sitting in the corner who hadn't said a word. "Both of you are very dangerous people," he said.

"So are you, Mister Stokes," Ceraine said, mischievously.

Shaking his head, he asked, "if I were so dangerous, why did you allow me to keep my weapon?"

Harris returned the stare he was getting from the agent. "Everyone in this room had weapons on their person. If everybody at the meeting was weaponized, why should we have taken your gun away? That would be unfair for you to be unarmed in light of that, don't you think?"

"…Quite."

"Well Mister Harris, what do you get from this?"

Anthony didn't expect an answer. Surprisingly, he got one.

"To put it bluntly, I don't want this world to go down the drain. Great Britain is at a boiling point. And you're the tip of the spear. The world is about to change," Alex told him. "What happens here will be the blueprint for the rest of the world. Your government has to start preparing," Alex said. "There are three issues that you need to address. The first is, and this is in no particular order, the Statute of Secrecy.

"And what is that?" interrupted Stokes. "It was mentioned but I would like some clarification."

Alex nodded. "The statute of Secrecy is a law instituted in the late 17th century. Originally, this law was meant to protect non-magicals and keep the existence of magic a secret from the no-mages.

"They believe if normal people discovered the existence of magic, then they would do anything to get it. That included the torture and murder of magicals, specifically witches and wizards. Putting it bluntly, they were afraid for their lives. It's understandable when you think about it."

"Yes, and how did they enforce this law?"

"Using non-lethal methods, they use spells that can erase memories."

"I don't like the sound of that," Stokes said. It was easy to see where this was going. "They started abusing this statute, didn't they?"

Again, Alex nodded. "When this statute was conceived, it was considered more as a set of guides rather than a rigid law. Now every witch and wizard can justify wiping memories to any non-magical if they even think that a normal has seen magic. Normally the magical police force was allowed to do this. But there is significant abuse and the Aurors, their police force, look the other way and that is one of the reasons why your witnesses have no recollection of the terrorist actions.

"The Inheritors are using it to cover their tracks and keep a low profile. Furthermore, your own agents are being selectively wiped and are unable to recall important details. Recall drugs and hypnotism does not work. Naturally, this places you at an extreme disadvantage."

"Naturally," Stoked said. He was very displeased at that. After a moment: "There has to be some way to negate these memory wipes."

"Yes, there is, and it can be prevented by magical and scientific methods which brings up another problem. The Wizarding Magical world, especially in Britain and Europe, is so isolated that they have little knowledge of the advances that we have made in the various sciences. There are certain technologies that can effectively counter the specific energy used to wipe memory. The magic in this world is basically manipulation of a specific kind of energy. It doesn't originate from a supernatural source, although those sources do exist. The problem arises not so much from the wizarding world but from the Inheritors. They understand science and are wary of it. They know it's potential and as you've heard, are taking steps to minimize it."

"You are referring to certain television programming and the unusual failure rate of major scientific projects around the world."

Again, he paused while putting things together. "I assume that the suppression of religious programing and supernatural programming is part of this plot."

"Very good. I do need to give you some background information first. The wizarding world is very backwards when it comes to understanding science and technologies that have nothing to do with magic. The reason for this is that magic replaces almost all the instrumentation that non-wizards take for granted. They've been doing this for a very long time and have tendencies to reject things that are new or different. Their culture, with some exceptions, is stuck in the late 18th to the late 19th century. A lot of their rules and regulation place them in the 17th. They have little or nothing to do with the so-called muggle world. Wizarding Britain assumes they are at the pinnacle of magic and technology. The word muggle is the name applied to non-magicals and is as derogatory as it sounds. Most wizards and witches consider muggles primitive barbarians, barely above animals. The American wizards are better informed, more technically aware, and more open mindedness, but not by much. With the British–to give you an idea. Most of them don't know that we have powered flight. They assume we still get around in balloons."

"Wait! How is that even possible? Planes fly overhead all the time! How could they not see them?"

_**TBC**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Master Xander**_

_**Chapter 18**_

Sanctum Santorum de Harris

"…_Wait! How is that even possible? Planes fly overhead all the time! How could they not see them?"_

_XXX_

Alex Harris had to smile at the gob smacked look on Agent Stokes' face. "This magical community are superb isolationists and it goes both ways, especially here in Britain. Plus, there is the general belief that non-magicals can't achieve anything at all because they don't have magic. Therefore, if they even cared to look up, planes must have magic to work. Most of them are about as curious as sloths having an interest in jogging. Another point is that the same magical that keeps them from being detected prevents them from seeing the outside world. If they remain in the magical section all of their lives, then they won't see anything."

Stokes picked up Alex's thoughts. "Thereby reinforcing their beliefs about non-magicals," he finished. "It's created a superiority complex."

"Given their abilities, you're exactly right. Now getting back to your original comment. From what we were told, there appears to be an attack on free-thinking, speculative fiction as well as creating tension among the religious communities. If they can suppress and fracture nations, it serves their agendas. Stifling imagination, research, and faith in higher things than themselves can cripple a person. That's what they want. These Inheritors are wary of science, and they should be. The regular wizarding world's terrorists haven't figured that out yet."

MI-6 and other agencies were about to be put on notice. "I'm sure that our people will be taking a very close look into this," he promised.

"I know you will and that brings us to the next set of problems. Until you can devise a way to keep your people from being wiped, I have several gifts." Alex gave the man several nondescript rings. "These rings will keep your memories from being wiped until you develop counters of your own. I have the frequencies and wavelengths used to wipe memories and it will be made available to you for study.

"Next is your security problem. Let's assume that you have moles in your service. And they need to be routed out. I suggest closed-circuit cameras everywhere in your buildings will be your friend. Also, electromagnet jammers will prevent teleportation called an apparition. Don't worry, I have all this info prepared for you to access. Bio-energy manipulation is easier to counter than the supernatural. I dare say your R&D will be very busy in the coming days and that brings me to my next point. Your organization isn't ready to handle these Inheritors. Not only are they wizards, but they have a massive organization that will overwhelm you. You need to step up your game, and for that I have a few gifts for you to help do that."

Opening a small cart, he pulled out two items. One was a small black rectangular object and what looked to be a larger version.

"Ah, the famous communications device we've heard of," Stokes said. "I know a lot of people who are salivating to get a good look at these. Good to confirm you're the source of these devices."

"Well first, it's more than a communication's device. It's what we call a smart phone. And its larger cousin is a tablet that be used as a phone and live video comms, although that isn't its primary function. Both can be used to communicate with another device on the network and the phone function can be used with your smart phones all over the world. They can also connect to line phones. They have text capability, can store information, and have access to a vast database that spans this world. History, art, video, and photo capture with enhancement capabilities are just some of its functions. These devices are security conscious. No one can use the device unless they meet the security protocols which you will create. The database is self-contained but also is connected to my server that has the sum total of millions of books, all at the touch of a button and is voice operated. These will help to get you up to speed. I have also placed in the tablets six specific movies of interest to your agencies and specifically to MI-6. There are some innovations you will find interesting. You need to develop a Double O program to help prepare your nation when you confront this organization and other threats."

"And what is a Double O program?"

"Look at the movies and they'll explain it to you," smiled Alex. "It is my intentions to be a liaison between the magicals and normals. The people that were here know how critical this is," Alex told him as he gave him the box. "I want us to work together if this world is to survive. Now my specific job, and others that I choose, is to keep more dangerous supernatural and demonic elements off this planet." He waved his hands into the air. "I guess I'm about to become one of your assets." He smiled. "And your people are about to become one of mine."

Stokes just raised an eyebrow. Clearly, he was irritated by the low opinion Alex had of his service. "From what I've seen, I believe we will need help with this endeavor. If my superiors agree to it." He looked around at the impossibly large room. "It's a whole new world."

"Actually, Mister Stokes, the world is older than you know and there are things trying to get in. Think you this world as a body and I'm a white blood cell making sure that the body is kept safe from very dangerous germs and viruses trying to infiltrate. More about this later."

He took that as a clue that is interrogation, and that was what it was, to leave.

"Hope to see you soon Mister future Bond," Ceraine said while Alex suppressed his smirk. "Oh, and please ask two of your associates outside to come and pick up a couple of boxes I have for your people. Please be careful and don't drop them. Here are the setup instructions."

He glanced at the Box. "I'm not familiar with that company."

"I would be shocked if you were, Mister Stokes."

Anthony looked at the cover in more detail. "A television? LG? Never heard of it."

* * *

A few minutes later, both masters were sitting on the couch going over the day's events.

"That went better than I hoped for," Ceraine said. "Do you think he noticed the hints we threw at him?"

"This world? Your world? Oh, yes. He noticed everything. They'll connect the dots soon enough," Alex said. "He knows we left him with a lot more questions than answers."

Alex stretched. A very long day was over. "We have a lot of work to do. By the way, have you picked anyone yet?"

"Yes, I have a candidate or two. What about you?"

"I have someone in mind."

Ceraine just shook her head at the cryptic answer. He really channeled Hoggoth too much sometimes.

_**Xander's Magic**_

Last night's meeting turned out better than Alex and expected.

The Gringotts clan had joined with the United Fae in declaring war against the Inheritors. It went without saying that their agenda pissed off every non-wand user and other magical communities weren't going to take it lying down. The people were aware of the threat and they had a name to go with it.

The Inheritor's agenda was very similar to Voldemort's but much further reaching, but both had the effect of bringing the magical community together.

He was pleasantly surprised by the goblin's reaction. The cultivating of friendship and respect had borne fruit. They were powerful allies and Alex would exploit that as much as he could in the coming weeks and months. Not only had they stepped up when dealing with the Wolfram and Hart situation, but they pulled in the Gnomes, the Dwarves, and the ever-loving human banking institutions in their battles. The old axiom was true. Money did indeed talk and made strange, but solid allies. That mutual alliance wasn't about to break anytime soon. They were this world's antibodies fighting against foreign bodies. Unfortunately, this world didn't have antibodies to defend against entities that were coming through Glory's portals that manifesting all over the world. But even in this, there were inviolate laws.

The ruling entities such as Dormammu and his nutcase sister Umar, and other rulers in the Purple and other dark and hell dimensions weren't allowed to interfere directly with this Earth. As powerful as they were, more powerful forces kept them at bay, even daring them to try to interfere. But even here there were loopholes. And this was where Alexander's responsibilities lay because there were others coming.

Alexander and Ceraine were preparing for. The smaller entities were supremely dangerous, but there were ways to deal with them. The two weren't alone. Other members of the magical communities in-the-know were being gathered and trained so they could defend their own world from these abominations.

This unification was not without its problems. Magicals and no-mages would have to come together to survive what was coming. That would be a tense time and there was a strong possibility that war might break out unless the situation was carefully handled. This world was about to be tested. He hoped cooler heads would prevail and he would do what he could to help.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was somewhat pissed off that Alex and Ceraine had told Molly and Arthur of the charms placed on them and that they were now canceled. Albus' near obsession with his concept of the 'greater good' was going to get his people killed. Alex had laid into him about the charms unknowingly placed on the Weasleys.

Arthur and Molly noticed nothing amiss. The charms worked perfectly, which is why they hadn't noticed their boys attitude or remembered any of the darker events that the boys and Henny had let slip. Needless to say, the couple was enraged about the loyalty charmed placed on them and swore to confront Albus as soon as they could.

The old man, expecting to hear news about the mysterious meeting, went pale when Alexander had confronted him. Dumbledore was concerned and surprised that the American had removed the charms with his unique magic. Alex had given him a chance, but he hadn't had the time and truthfully, he didn't like being pushed to a wall. But he couldn't afford to antagonize such an asset, not after what Xander had told him later when things cooled down.

But in the hour that Dumbledore spent at Alex's home after everyone had left, the man stressed out having yet another problem to deal with. As he said, he was very vexed with his two professors who could have cared less at how he felt.

All of them would talk again when Albus had the time to get together with them and try to justify his actions and deal with the consequences. Naturally, Alex knew that the old man would be more careful but wouldn't change his plans. But he also knew that Dumbledore knew he couldn't easily get away with actions that directly affected Alex's interests. The trust factor was seriously cracked but not broken yet, simply because they needed each other. All of them would get through this with a few broken bones and harsh feelings, but they _would_ get through it.

Naturally, Xander didn't tell him everything which served to aggravate Albus, a man who needed to know everything while giving out the least possible information in return.

Albus was told about the various species of fairies, goblins and mages coming together to protect themselves. And Alex mentioned that another incursion had happened. Alex explained that he and Ceraine were looking into it.

Alex did not tell him of the Inheritors slaughtering magical communities. That conversation was for a later time. To be honest, Dumbledore had his hands full dealing with the death-eaters and the goblet challenge coming up and the visiting schools.

Alex's mind went back to the tournament.

For a civilized society, this kind of tournament was extraordinarily dangerous. Growing up on a Hellmouth, facing so many evils and outright craziness, he didn't want to say anything. This was their culture, their world, and besides, many of them were paying customers.

He was pleased that they loved his _made by human hands_ food. A lot of his customers believed it had a special flavor. In Alex's opinion, it was just food, but the fact that it was handmade using non magical methods and ingredients made it exotic.

Ceraine was gone on one of her business/shopping trips and wouldn't be back until late Sunday night. Monday was the Goblet of Fire day and she wouldn't miss that. All the teachers were expected to be there and frankly, neither one wanted to miss it.

Alex was left minding the store, literally. He didn't mind and business was brisk as many of the patrons crowded the store on the few days it was opened. Hours were scaled back because of the classes, and loyal customers took advantage of the reduced shopping times. Alex and Ceraine weren't surprised by the response to their more consistent customers. Many were aggravated at the reduced hours, the most common complaint being that they were inconvenienced.

Other shopkeepers were overjoyed at first. However, those reduced hours made the store more popular during the times that it was opened, much to their distress. It did have a side effect. The older, more complacent shopkeepers were upping their game.

Several customers entered an hour before the store was set to close. Two were ministry officials including one Minister Fudge followed by his wife. Surprisingly, they were consistent customers, or more accurately, his wife was. Mrs. Fudge was a pleasant woman and some of the 'muggle' perfumes had captured her attentions. Fudge grumbled at being dragged by his wife to go perfume shopping at the American muggle-style store. However, he obviously liked the exotic scents judging by the glow he sent his wife when she wasn't looking. Plus, the stuffy little man always seemed to window shop when he came with her, usually lingering around the magazine section where there were both magical and non-magical varieties. Interestingly, he always bought least one of the non-magical varieties (usually the French ones, the dirty old coot). His wife pretended not to notice, but she knew what he was doing, and Alex sensed her approval.

Naughty political couple, heh, heh.

There was a phrase that Alex thought about that Sir Rupert Giles once told him after a particular long drinking bout after one of their great victories against a family of Okna'Drk demons. The clan tried to take over a city in Ohio. He said, 'Always beware of stuffy Brit couples that bring randy French literature home at night.'

Young Xander didn't need to know that. It destroyed his idyllic vision of the English.

Older Alex couldn't help but smile like an idiot.

Minister fudge was a blustering politician, with a taste in clothing that would have driven his younger self insane. The girls would have murdered him just to protect their eyes.

Alex didn't care. The man was spending good money and his continued patronage kept the others off of Alex's back for now.

That was certainly going to change in the near future.

Two other window shoppers came in, looked around and left.

The quaint little non-magical doorbell chimed as two potential customers entered the store. Whoever they were, they were looking like they were casing the place. Both men tried to look like they were interested in the items, but Alex saw through that. After a few minutes, they left.

_It was starting._ Alex wasn't overly concerned at this point. He had customers to tend. Smiling cheerfully, Alex went to greet his latest patron when he stopped. The blond woman wearing a little too much makeup, and a dark green button down two-piece long-sleeved suit gingerly entered. She glanced around the store and spotted Alex. For a moment MS Rita Skeeter looked terrified. Then she straightened up and boldly entered the threshold. Most other customers recognized her immediately. She smiled at Alex, which he thought looked totally fake.

She put on a brave front, but there was little doubt that she was terrified. "Mr. Harris," she said. "I wanted to talk to you."


	19. MX 19

_Here we go again. What is happening now is on a Tuesday, The goblet drawing will be on this coming Thursday, so this is two days before that event. Please enjoy._

_**Master Xander**_

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

_**Xander's Magic Shop and Curiosities **_

_It was starting._ Alex wasn't overly concerned at this point. He had customers to tend. Smiling cheerfully, Alex went to greet his latest patron when he stopped. The blond woman wearing a little too much makeup, and a dark green button down two-piece long-sleeved suit gingerly entered. She glanced around the store and spotted Alex. For a moment she looked terrified. Then she straightened up and boldly entered the threshold. Most other customers recognized her immediately. She smiled at Alex, which he thought looked totally fake.

She put on a brave front, but there was little doubt that she was terrified. "Mr. Harris," she said. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Why?" Alex responded as his mood soured.

Rita Skeeter wasn't someone he expected to see coming to his store. And Skeeter was a reporter whose reputation preceded her. It caused him to wonder about her agenda.

The look he was giving the reporter alarmed her. "It's nothing official," she sputtered as her nervousness took hold. "Please don't spray me again!"

Alexander's smile was unnerving. "Ms. Skeeter, you've come into my establishment. I assume that you're here to browse or maybe buy something, not be sprayed. Am I right?"

"Yes, right you are." Rita Skeeter looked immensely relieved. "Thank you, Mr. Harris," and she really meant it. "I am not here to start an argument."

Rita paused for a moment as she thought about how to approach the conversation. She had spent hours, days really, trying to think of the right words that wouldn't aggravate Harris, but none of her usual approaches seemed appropriate. In the end, she simply blurted out the words, and in the process surprising herself. The woman had sworn to herself that she wouldn't lose control of her emotions in front of the man who poisoned her.

The woman wanted, no, she needed closure.

"I really wish you hadn't done that."

"Did what?" Alex asked, pretending ignorance while aggravating her in the process.

"Mister Harris, don't play the innocent with me. It was a terrible thing to do!" she said with far less heat than Alex had expected. "I believe you thought you had your reasons to do such a terrible thing, but you poisoned me using that horrid stuff," she practically screamed.

Surprised by her own outburst, she frantically looked around at the other patrons. They hadn't seemed to notice her uncouthness. "I did nothing to cause you to respond in such a vile manner."

"No, you're wrong." he told her as they moved to a more secluded area to sit down and talk. "You did, you violated the sanctity of my classroom, not to mention writing all of those wonderful articles about my associate, myself and my store. The innuendos involving myself and Ms. Delane didn't help improve my opinions of you. In fact, you went out of your way to denigrate and insult us. Ms. Skeeter, you didn't have a clue about us, and you didn't bother to find out. You invented stories created from your own imagination and printed those stories like a cheap gossip columnist. As a reporter, you weren't concerned about the damage you brought, or the people you hurt."

Rita glared at him with undisguised anger. She did not like being challenged and she was somewhat embarrassed at being called on it. Most people merely raged at her. But she knew that Alex would do a lot worse if he was provoked, and that frightened her. However, her fear didn't assuage her anger and being insulted. How Skeeter struggled as she tried to keep her voice low enough to keep the other patrons from overhearing their conversation. The woman thought about casting a silencing spell but dared not do so in Alex's store. The man might take offense and she certainly didn't want to do that. However, she had to respond.

"You are Americans who came here and established a store in what is traditionally a magical British community. It is up to news reporters such as me, to find out why you came here and for what reason." She gulped. "I hasten to add that you rejected all of my inquiries. I had no choice but to speculate."

"Mrs. Skeeter, you didn't even take the time to ask for an interview. You just stuck your quill in my face and started asking ignorant questions."

"My name is Rita, and it is not Missus," she corrected. "And those weren't ignorant questions and I did request an interview with you, which you rejected out of hand." She sighed, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. "Mr. Harris, I came here to apologize for my actions at the school. I'm a reporter and it's my job to present the news to the public. I admit that I sometimes do go too far, but you didn't have to do that to me."

"Do what?" Alex asked her.

She looked at him, appalled. "You mustn't play with me about this. You sprayed me," she whispered. The memories came flooding back and she looked terrified. "Somehow you knew that I was in my animagus form. How? I've kept this a close secret and very few people know. How did you know and why haven't you told the authorities?" With the last question, she couldn't keep the fear out of her voice.

"I think I've gotten my point across," Alex told her. "Only Ceraine and I know. I am not interested in revealing your secret identity. There wasn't a need for you to be imprisoned, although you are breaking British magical law by not registering."

Rita was quiet for a moment as she tried to gauge what he was telling her. she was suspicious by nature and her hackles were up. "Oh, I see. You're going to hold this over me." The woman looked disheartened and somewhat fearful. "What do I have to do to keep you from telling the authorities?"

The conversation was interrupted while the last of the customers paid for their purchases and left, leaving Rita and Alex alone at the store.

Alexander turned, directly facing a very frightened Rita who was trying her best to look indifferent. It was the look in her eyes that betrayed her feeling. "The answer is nothing, and I know what you're thinking," he told her. She was looking at him questioningly. "It's obvious to one who sees. Don't be afraid," he said, trying to reassure her. "I have no interest in doing that to you, so you can pull your mind away from the gutter."

Rita was shocked and a little surprised. She was absolutely sure that Alexander would take advantage of her womanly nature as the price for keeping a secret. Americans were like that. She was aware that many men would have gladly forced her into a compromising situation, not hesitating for a second. "You mean I don't have to do anything?"

"No, Ms. Skeeter, other than this. I want you to show a little more respect when you write articles about people. I want you to be a little more objective and less vindictive."

"My articles aren't vindictive!" she retorted.

He shook his head in disagreement. "Yes, they are. Don't forget, I've read your articles. You were especially brutal to the Harry Potter kid. Your articles about his godfather and the murder of his parents were just cruel. I saw a lot of that was just made-up garbage. Do you have any idea how much damage you've done to him? From what I've read, you didn't officially interview him, but you've made up so many things that will probably scar that boy for life."

"But he's news! And he's just a boy, he'll get over it."

"Let me ask you a question," Alex said. She bit her lip and nodded. "Are you going to get over being sprayed by me?"

"That's different," she hissed. "You poisoned me! That is something I will never fully get over."

"Mister Potter and all of those whom you've slandered have gone through the same thing."

Rita looked stricken, although she tried to cover it up with that fake smile of hers. "I don't understand what you mean?" she lied.

"You're doing the same thing to the people you slandered. It's the same thing as poisoning them. For example, Harry is a young impressionable boy. No matter what they said that he is supposed to have done, he's still a child, barely a teenager. You've torn him apart and your constant articles. You are taking away what little childhood he has. Lord know it's not just you. Lots of others that have participated in sensationalizing this child's life and we both know most of it was crap and lousy writing." There was a moment's pause as he tried to decide if he should continue his line of thought. He decided to push it. "There was a time in the early to mid-eighteen hundred, probably earlier, that most of the world believed that Britain treated their children lower than dirt. The orphanages, the child factories, the beatings, the utter contempt for the poor and their children. You're a reporter, and you know the history. I thought you would have improved after all of this time. I guess I was wrong."

"…"

Alex continued speaking before she could retort. "You went after Ceraine and me with little regard to our personal feelings or privacy," he told her. "Your articles haven't endeared yourself to me." Alex began glaring at her. "To make myself clear Ms. Skeeter, I wasn't interested in permanently debilitating or killing you." He looked off into the distance and smiled ruefully. "If I had wanted to, I could have transfigured you in a fly with just your head remaining human and let you buzz around like that for a couple of weeks. Or I could have made your beetle form permanent. And yes, I can do that," he told the now very pale woman. "So, when I when I sprayed you, I was being nice."

Rita look absolutely horrified.

Alex got up and grabbed a coke from his refrigeration, popped the top and took a long sip. "But really, I didn't like doing that because it exposes the darker side of my nature. You're a bit of a git, but I wouldn't do that to you just because you wrote articles I didn't like. By the way, do you want a Coke?"

For some reason, she felt irrationally pleased by his answer. "…I'm not familiar with that concoction. It must be muggle. But yes, thank you. Mister Harris, you are a very confusing man! And," she added, "for your information, I am not a git, not really!

He went and got her the soda and handed it to her. she gingerly took it, popped the top and tasted it. Her eyes widen. It was a little sweet, but she decided that she liked it.

"Now I think you're here to shop before the store closes for the night, which closed about ten minutes ago, but I will make an exception," he added. "Put away your journalist hat and enjoy yourself. The store's changed since you came in the last time about two years ago when we opened. And yes, I remember you coming here and checking everything out in your beetle form," he flatly told her. "Thought you were a bug and almost sprayed you then. But saw what you were and decided to let you go. You may not remember, but I do."

"Please!" she implored. "How did you know? How _do_ you know?"

"Doesn't matter," he said and changed the subject. "We have added a lot of things."

The woman recognized the shift and decided not to contest. "Yes, I think I'd like that." She paused for a few seconds before turning to face him again. Her voice wavered a little as she continued. "I'd like us to start over again on a better footing this time. I don't want you to see me as your enemy." Looking nervous, she took a step back. Her eyes glazed over a bit. "I am listening to what you're saying to me whether you believe me or not."

Carefully watching the man for a reaction, she continued. "While I was at home recovering," she growled, "I had a lot to think about. Even though you were mean to me, you could have done a lot worse and I know that." Her voice wavered.

"I could have but chose not to."

For a few minutes, Rita looked around the store, really looked. A couple of items really caught her attention.

"In my profession, I have a lot of contacts and many of those people that I know I considered associates. But I don't have too many friends. In fact, I can count them on two fingers," she laughed bitterly. "I was alone in my apartment and nobody came to check to see how was doing except my editor, of course. And the only reason he came to my flat was because he was worried about his article about Hogwarts was behind schedule. I was sick and no one came to see if I was even alive. They just dismissed me."

"Sorry to hear that but its partially your fault," said Alex, but not unkindly. "You can't just use people and expect them care about you in times of need. Your associates are the same way. They care about what you can do for them, not you personally."

She was uncharacteristically quiet for a while. Her face displayed a multitude of emotions ranging from anger, to fear, to sadness, and loneness. "I learned that the hard way," and here she smirked a bit. "I find that I don't like it, not one bit." Now she looked at him, studying the man in front of him. "I also know that you checked on me at least twice while I was ill."

He didn't bother denying it. "I just wanted to make sure you hadn't dropped dead," he said drily.

"You did more than anyone else," she noted sadly. "Even if you were the one who poisoned me and left me to suffer in my apartment for almost a week."

"That was only because of enlightened self-interest."

Rita shook her head. Amused by his comment. "Don't try to fool me. I have a journalist's eye for news. You were worried about me. But to get back to my original point. I would like for us to start over as friends." She took a breath. "Would you like have a spot of dinner with me?" she asked, blushing. "We all know the reputations of Americans." Her cheeks flushed more and was visible even through her makeup. "I don't want you to ravish me or anything. I would like, however, you to go out with me. I know you are a bit younger but…I have hopes we can be friends."

"What!? Wait!" _'She was asking me out on a date? And after I sprayed her with Raid? What is it about me and bug women?'_

Alex was thrown off guard, but to his credit, he recovered quickly. "Actually, you're only thirty-nine and that means I'm years older than you are."

"I'm not thirty-nine!" she huffed. "I'm closer to thirty…I mean, thirty-seven."

"Rita, our association didn't start on the best of terms. But you want us to go out on a date?

She sighed, looking utterly dejected and embarrassed. "I knew I shouldn't have come here." She turned around. "Well, I tried," Ms. Skeeter said wispily as she got ready to leave as she tried to maintain as much of her dignity as possible.

Alex couldn't help but be was impressed. It took strength for this woman to open herself up like that of a person that she thought was willing to kill her. It also took courage to ask, knowing that it could turn around and slap you in the face. She looked crestfallen, assuming that her entreaty would result in humiliation.

"Wait," he told Rita. He touched her shoulder and the woman froze in place. "Come over here and sit down, please." She did so without any hesitation.

"First, Americans aren't what you think we are," he explained. "Don't believe everything you read in the papers," he told the reporter. "Second, I really am years older than you are, kid as I mentioned earlier. And third, yes, we can go to dinner. It'll give us a chance to talk. And you can wear something sexy."

She gaped at him for a moment. She thought she _was_ wearing something sexy! "Mister Harris!" her face was flushed. "Okay."

'_Like Giles would say,_ "Good Lord, I was just teasing, Rita." "I look forward to going out with you. You're a little young but I guess I can manage going out with a hot young thing."

"Ooh, Mister Harris…"

_Good Lord!_ "Call me Alex."

"Alex, you should say things like that."

"Why not?" he responded in his best Sean Connery imitation.

Rita blushed.

* * *

Later at home, Alexander was deep in meditation in the lotus position while floating several inches above his floor. Magic swirled around him as he focused on the magical image of the world map in front of him. Several of the live-in fae hovered around him, drawn by his magic, and acting as bodyguards.

A black spot appeared on the map as he came out of his tranc-like state.

"Got ya," he whispered.


End file.
